


Intra-Hearts Epilogue | Intraunion

by DeathByMidnightCinderella (DeathByOtome)



Series: Intra-Hearts [3]
Category: Midnight Cinderella (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Polyamory, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 15:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 171,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11970552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByOtome/pseuds/DeathByMidnightCinderella
Summary: You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.





	1. Part I | Morning | Love

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the chapters of this story are between 10,000 and 13,000 words long, with the exception of the final two, which are 16,000 words long each (The total word count is 171,000). This is the epilogue to Intra-Hearts.
> 
> To prevent confusion considering my use of the British meaning of college, the reader, suitors and all other characters their age are 17/18.
> 
> Note: I try to limit if not avoid entirely the use of original characters where possible in my writing, but sometimes I feel it necessary to use characters and give them presence, and so I also tend to cross-reference them in different stories. As such, for those who have read “Castle”, you might remember Xander and Tobias from that. I’m using them again here (apologies! I really felt like I needed them here again.), but simply in terms of their personalities etc.
> 
> Their history in “Castle” is different to what it is in this story, and so I warn you not to try to apply the likes of their mother in “Castle” to the universe in which this story is set. Thank you!
> 
> Do not read this if you have issue with original characters, or the strong presence of original organisations, in stories.  
> Also, do not read this if you have not read at least the interlude of this series, Intra-Hearts, as this story will make no sense if you haven't.
> 
> Otherwise, thank you and enjoy!

**21 st August 2016 | Summer Holidays, Pre-College Year 2**

 “___.”

_Mm…_

“___, baby, wake up. You need to get up; we’re leaving soon. Breakfast’s ready downstairs.”

_Leo… it’s too early for this. Shush…_

“Okay. Needs must, I guess.”

A hand cradles your face. Soft, warm lips press against your own.

“… Leo-”

He muffles the protest, kissing harder, deeper. Heat floods you, head spinning at the pleasure coursing through you.

_No fair._

Your hands find his hair, fingers sliding through the fluffy, snowy locks and holding him there above you. His knees straddle your hips, hands planted on either side of your head. You haven’t opened your eyes yet.

_More._

He groans into your mouth at the sensation of you touching his hair. “Princess…”

Now, it’s your turn to cut him off. You pull yourself up to him, craving his touch, needing to feel him close to you. He sighs into the kiss.

“You really pick the worst times to do these things, Princess.” You find yourself grinning, giggling quietly, into his mouth.

He grins back, reaching up to take your hands. He gently unlocks them from his head, instead lowering them to the pillow and restraining them there. Excitement shoots through your abdomen and legs, insides clenching very pleasantly with excitement. He sighs again, but it’s adoring, and he breathes out around it, “I’ll have you later, Princess. For now…”

He releases your hands, sliding one of his own under your back, the other arm doing the same under your bum. Before you can shout out in protest against what you think is a perverted, mild violation of your personal bubble, he uses the leverage to lift you up, against him. Your legs coil around his waist, and he uses it to then hold your thighs as you support yourself with his neck. His lips remain on yours, but now he moves, sliding across the massive bed before rolling to his feet with you clinging to him like a koala.

You force yourself to break the kiss so he can walk properly, instead settling on nuzzling your face into his throat. He breathes out shakily, making his way out and to the stairs. You haven’t opened your eyes yet, but you don’t need to in order to know where you’re going.

You’ve been in a polyamorous relationship and living with your boys for a month and three weeks now; it’s the 21st of August, so you’ve got a week and a half until you’re back to college, along with the boys. Today, you’re leaving the Wagner Manor in Stein and returning to Wysteria, so that you can readjust to being home and get ready for college.

You’re also going to reveal to your mother that you’re in love with all the guys.

You’ve yet to tell her, pretty much, because you’re scared. You’re terrified to death of how she’s going to react due to the fact that, quite simply, falling in love with nine different people is to some degree a massive thing to accept, even for someone like her, who seems to be fine with polyamory. The boys are insistent on her being okay with it, and are hellbent on that she’ll act no differently, but you’re not convinced.

Hence, why you aren’t exactly bouncing with energy this morning.

Leo carries you into the kitchen, still attached to his front, breathing in his slightly sharp, masculine scent. There’s a series of laughs when he walks in, and you can feel him grinning in response, your own skim warming. “Apparently, she’s still not very keen on going home.”

You hear Robert chuckle, responding, “Allow me to wake her up, then. She can sit with me.”

Leo hesitates for a brief moment, but then he hums, nodding. He leans down, and you feel arms slip around you, and then you’re sat back on someone’s lap.

Immediately, you can smell Robert and feel his familiar touch, that gentle yet strong, firm and confident certainty he’s always had about him. Your face buries itself in his neck, and you make a disgruntled sound, pouting childishly. He laughs once more, shifting you back and tucking his arms around your abdomen.

“Good morning.” He whispers, lips hovering above the shell of your ear. You shiver, nerves prickling at his light touch, to which he murmurs deep in his throat, “Princess, all will be well. Trust in us; everything will be fine. For now,” His mouth ghosts up to your cheekbone, where it presses down softly, eliciting a rush of warmth through your body. “Open your mouth.”

_What?_

Your eyes fly open instead, before then your lips part with confusion, half hidden against his neck. He nudges your head forward, and then suddenly something warm settles on your tongue, a familiar taste registering with your still-groggy mind.

_Food. He’s feeding me breakfast._

At this realisation, you sit up, chewing the welcome food. He laughs heartily, watching you take in your surroundings for the first time today. You’re in the kitchen, sat at the island counter, on Robert’s knee, while Nico is sat in the seat to your left. Albert is sat opposite Nico, eating his own breakfast of scrambled egg, and Byron is next to him, opposite you and Robert, with some eggs and sausage. He gives you a calm but amused smile, and Albert stares on somewhat blankly, but his cheeks are slightly flushed.

_Oh. It’s because I’m on Robert’s knee that he’s blushing._

Robert picks up another piece of the food with the fork he has, lifting it to your mouth when you swallow the first. You accept it silently, munching the delicious item appreciatively. “You somehow become more adorable every day. I’m glad we stopped letting you take care of food and drinks.”

“I concur.” Byron agrees, smirking just slightly.

Your skin warms, and you cuddle back into Robert, trying to fight off your oncoming smile. Albert glances down, seeming to get more flushed by the second, and Nico sits up to whisper something in Robert’s ear lowly. The latter grins, continuing to feed you, while Albert looks up again. When he next lowers his eyes to his plate, Byron smirks, and Robert pops a piece of the food between his lips.

Without any warning, he swoops in close to your face, pressing his lips to yours and feeding you it.

You squeak, surprised, embarrassed and confused by the sudden kiss, all the while simultaneously excited and flushed with joy. Albert’s head jerks up at the sound, but Robert has already withdrawn, grinning smugly and acting as if he’s completely innocent. You try to avoid choking, your hand flying up to cover your mouth and half of your cheek.

Albert all but turns bright red at this, seeming to click on to what just happened.

Instantly, Nico is howling with laughter, and Byron soon follows, falling into hearty chuckles. Robert succumbs as well, and both you and Albert end up almost hiding in your hands from embarrassment.

The latter doesn’t raise his head again, apparently about to die from blushing so hard. Nico pops off upstairs for a few moments, returning with a smug look. Robert chuckles, watching you bury your face in your hands for real now, blushing furiously. He tightens his grip on your middle, and then his thumb begins to massage the space just under your naval, circling against the sensitive flesh through your leggings and top.

Despite the barrier between him and your skin, it’s a particularly strong point of reaction in you, and sends shockwaves of unexpected pleasure wracking through you.

You shrink back into him, trying to stifle both the trembles shuddering through you as well as the moan working its way up your throat. Robert makes a sound somewhat resembling a purr, vibrating and rumbling out from his chest against your back, and this only heightens your senses further.

“My, my,” He utters, his deep, resonating tone blatantly seductive, as well as undeniably sexy. He speaks almost impossibly quietly, words barely audible to you and completely impossible to be heard by the others. “It seems I’ve found a rather sensitive spot. You’re adorable; you feel so warm, Princess.”

Unbeknownst to you, Byron sends Robert an approving look. Nico grins, nodding enthusiastically.

Robert smiles angelically. He reaches up, prying your hands from your face. You try to hide in your hair, but Robert doesn’t give you the chance.

His lips immediately consume yours, right there in the kitchen, while Byron and Nico both watch.

He silences your noise of panic, keeping a hand on the back of your head. The control allows him to kiss you so deeply, you can’t think at all. You’re vaguely aware that this is a common area and that you shouldn’t be doing this, but you’re also very aware that Byron and Nico, at the very least, seem to be worryingly comfortable with watching the other guys touch you like this.

Well, assuming they get the chance to touch you as well, that is.

You’re so hot, it feels like you’re melting, from Robert’s passion, from excitement, from the ecstasy of his hand now on your thigh. Your fingers are clutching at his shirt, the other hand gripping his arm, draped across your lap where he’s touching your leg. Your skin is on fire, unbelievably red and warm.

Albert has kept his head down this whole time, focusing almost aggressively on eating his scrambled egg. Taking notice of the sudden silence, though, he blinks, beginning to raise his head.

Only for Nico to slam his hand down on the back of it, all but smashing Albert’s face into the food.

Robert disengages at this point, anticipating Nico’s next move. He shifts you over as Albert snaps up to his feet, expression absolutely livid. Nico takes your hand and all but yanks you off Robert’s lap, grinning like the devil at Albert’s egged face and glasses. “Come on, Princess! I’ve already run a bath for you!”

“A bath?” You exclaim, practically flying out of the kitchen, Nico sprinting out with you. “I thought I had to be ready soon!”

Byron laughs darkly, voice fading swiftly, but you hear his words. “There’s been a slight change of plan.”

Becoming increasingly confused and suspicious of the way they’re acting, you can only let Nico drag you upstairs and to your room.

He guides you into the en suite. Immediately, the smell of roses, mixed with your bath oil, envelops your senses. Warm air circulates in the bathroom, intensifying the scent. The bath is filling with water, but somehow, it’s a beautiful, pale crimson, and bubbles of a similar shade float atop it, nearly obscuring the water entirely. You blink, simultaneously amazed and clueless.

“Nico… this is amazing. Why have you-”

Nico swivels around in a split second, jerking your hand sharply. You stumble toward him, caught in his waiting arms in a second. His molten amber eyes lock with yours, so intense you freeze in place, before he closes them and lowers his head.

He captures your lips in a deep, consuming, amazingly intense kiss, sending your head spinning immediately. He releases your hand, which grips his shoulder instead, your other settled against his pounding heart. He tucks the free arm around your thighs, lifting you up and supporting you against his front, as your eyes drift shut. He carries you over to the bath, where he sets you down on the edge, moving in close. Your legs part to let him stand before you, sending heat scorching your limbs when he presses himself against you.

He’s been leaning down to kiss you up until now, but he lowers himself to one knee before you now that you’re settled on the edge, so he’s leaning up slightly instead. His hands ghost over your sides, then slip under your vest, palming the flesh of your torso. You shudder with pleasure, gasping into the kiss. His tongue emerges from his own mouth for a second, licking your lower lip and drawing a breathless moan from you.

“Nico-”

_He doesn’t hold back. He wants this. So do I._

Your fingers grip his rosy, soft, fluffy locks, anchoring him against you, parting your lips again in invitation. He groans quietly, almost keening, before his tongue seeks out yours in your mouth. Already dizzy, your head practically whirls, intoxicated by his seductive touch.

And then, without any indication of it, he draws back and away from you. You almost tumble straight off the bath’s edge, having not expected him to move, but he catches you with a flushed grin.

“I love good morning kisses, and I love you, Princess; I wanted a minute alone so I could say it, and I was getting just a little jealous of Robert just then, but I’m more than okay now.” Giggling at your furious blush, and your hands now gripping at his shoulders, he takes the latter and kisses your knuckles. Your insides churn with a chaotic pleasure at his words. “Enjoy your bath, Princess!”

With that, he lets you go, turns the taps off, then bounds up and skips out of the bathroom.

_What just happened?_

Unable to answer the should-be-simple question, you heave yourself up, nerves still tingling wildly.

While you’re in the bath, it’s almost like Nico’s there with you, with the water and bubbles reminding you of him so much. You take your time to enjoy it, soaking thoroughly and basking in the scents in the room, before you reluctantly wash your hair, get out and dry off. Wrapping yourself in your dressing gown, your hair pulled atop your head inside a towel, you let the water drain away and leave the en suite.

But you then jump, squeaking with surprise, when you see Nico perched on the bed, waiting patiently. He gives you a suspiciously innocent, yet somehow cheeky grin. “Aw, did I scare you? Sorry. You look like you enjoyed the bath, though. You’re all flushed and still a bit wet.”

_That was not sexual. Do not make it an innuendo. Do not let that become dirty. Control yourself!_

Your already warm cheeks burn. He smirks cheekily. “Oh? What’s wrong, Princess? Don’t tell me you’re thinking naughty things?”

Your hand flies up to your face, covering your cheek. Your eyes divert to the floor to the side, heart pounding at the implication of his words and the thoughts they bring with them. “N-No! Of course not! I’m just hot because of the bath!”

You hadn’t heard him approach with your embarrassment, but suddenly, he’s in front of you. An arm curls around your lower back, the other hand ghosting atop yours against your cheek. His head drifts down, hand tilting your own face back. Your insides clench, muscles tightening with anticipation, as his lips brush over the flesh above your pulse point. “I don’t know, Princess.”

He purrs out the words like a cat, feline and smooth and enchanting. Your breath hitches, feeling his fingers leave your waist to trail down to your hip, then your thigh, covered only by your thin dressing gown. Your fingers grip his shirt hard, heart thumping away. He nuzzles into the skin of your throat, almost like a predator inspecting its prey before it goes in for the kill.

The fingers slide under your dressing gown. They flatten against your outer thigh.

“The rest of you feels cool. I think you’re being naughty.”

“Nico…”

The fingers stop. You can feel his smile against your neck.

A fleeting butterfly kiss graces the space over your pulse, and then he retreats, both hands now cupping your burning face tenderly.

You can’t look him in the eye, forever unaccustomed to the things they can do to you, and how hot and bothered they make you in mere seconds, when you’ve grown up around them as nothing more than friends. He giggles, seeing this, before he kisses your forehead gently.

“Sorry. I didn’t scare you, did I?” You manage to shake your head, to which he seems to realise that you’re just out-and-out embarrassed as hell. He coils his arms around you, letting you bury your face in his chest while you try to breathe through the pleasure coursing through you.

“You just looked so beautiful and adorable, I couldn’t help myself.” You huff, the sound muffled, before you hug his middle back tightly, heartbeat failing to slow even with your controlled breathing. “But you know that if I’m making you uncomfortable, you need to tell me straight away, right? You remember the rules?”

You nod, thoughts sobering instantly. “Of course.”

You couldn’t forget them. Those are the rules you live by now, the rules that ensure your relationship with all nine of your boys will not fail.

One: Your word is final. If you are uncomfortable in the slightest, unsure, hesitant, or outright opposed, to anything the boys are doing, they are to stop immediately, without question. Of course, if they become uncomfortable with anything, you will stop completely as well, but the group came to the consensus that you know them far too well and are too controlled to ever even considering pushing the boundaries between you all. You doubt they’d do something, of course, but it was necessary to establish that all-important line regardless.

Two: The true nature of the relationship between you all must never, ever, ever escape beyond the group, and after today, your mother, unless the group unanimously agrees to it.

Three: There will be no sexual contact between anyone in the group, although it really only applies to you with each of the boys. Everything up to kisses on respectable areas of the body, meaning the face, neck, shoulders, collarbones, arms, stomach – although strictly limited to the naval from the top of the abdomen - back, and the legs, the latter being up to the mid-thighs, is permitted.

Four: No one, under any circumstance, can leave marks of any kind on anyone else. Hickeys, bites, scratches, and even drawings, if indicative of the relationship to any extent, are strictly prohibited to protect its secrecy.

Five: The only places where the boys are allowed to touch you are your house, Albert, Byron and Nico’s manor in Stein, their dorm in the Royal Wysterian Academy, Alyn and Leo’s dorm, Giles’ dorm, Robert’s dorm, and Sid’s manor,  _if_ , and only if, his father is not present in the house at the time.

Six: None of the boys will touch you intimately in front of the others, if in common area, in a location where such contact is safe to be had, those being the places mentioned above. Common areas include living rooms, kitchens, conservatories, walk-in cupboards or closets, studies, game rooms, dining rooms, hallways or entrances. Bedrooms are the only locations permitted, since they offer privacy, but this must be done with the door locked and any windows obscured by blinds or curtains.

Seven: No member of the group is allowed to act any differently than they always have in public, in that they cannot behave in such a way that would make others suspicious of their relationship with you. Any teasing must remain at the level that it was prior to the establishment of the relationship, and must not hint in any way about its true nature.

Eight: The relationship is not to be discussed, unless it is absolutely necessary and dire that it is, in public. Even if someone really, truly needs to, it has to be in a completely private place where it can be guaranteed that knowledge of it will not move beyond the group. It is also not to be discussed electronically, meaning in messenger apps or websites, through emails, texts, or even calls. To communicate messages of a romantic nature through electronics, you all use combinations of emojis and text faces, which create a code safe for all of you to use to express yourselves without there being risk of anyone understanding the meaning behind them.

Nine: All members of the group will stick to the agreements you’ve all made in terms of you spending time with each of the guys, which has been established as comfortably as possible, for both when you’re back in college and on breaks, like half term holidays.

Ten: If any member of the group wishes for the relationship to be terminated, they must alert other members so that everyone can be convened, to discuss how, why, the reasons behind it, and if the issues can be solved without termination.

Yeah. It’s ridiculously long, complicated and perhaps a bit of an overkill, but you all agreed when you created the rules that you only have one chance with this, so you have to protect it with everything possible, right from the start.

Back to the present, you exhale slowly, face now cooling down. “I know.” You mumble, rubbing his back gently. “If I was uncomfortable, I would tell you, trust me. I was very much comfortable.”

He laughs at that, embracing you tightly. “Yay! That’s good.”

He draws back now, tugging you over to your bed. On it is your white trench coat, with indigo buttons, a belt and trims, going down to your mid-thighs. Your black top with a corset effect in the middle, albeit with material behind the strings, is there as well, along with your black skinny jeans and lace-up combat boots, also black with a quilt effect around the sides. “I already picked out your clothes; it’s mostly warm, but it’s supposed to rain a little later, so I picked something more for Autumn than Summer.”

Your lips are graced by a huge, beaming smile; he’s so thoughtful, it should be impossible, if not at least illegal. “Nico, you’re wonderful. Thank you.”

He just grins, giving you a light peck on the forehead before bouncing over to the door. “Anything for our princess! I’m guessing you don’t want help getting changed?”

You point to the door, but you’re grinning back. He winks, slipping out.

You get changed into your clothes, your hair still wrapped in the towel, before fetching your phone and leaving your room.

Only, as you step out into the corridor, unbelievably strong, thick arms snap around your waist, yanking you back and against a familiar chest. Lips dive in, a hand reaching up to tilt your head back and face up, and before you can even make a sound, they’re kissing you.

You instantly recognise the lips; Sid.

Bold, brave, unrelenting, passionate and rough to a just-about-healthy extent. His kisses make your knees weak, taking your breath away and stealing all sense from you. Heat flushes your limbs, desire rising in you like a tidal wave. Your hand moves without your conscious control, fingers finding his head and forcing him closer, kiss deepening and intensifying with every second.

You can barely think, and your mind goes completely blank when he spins you around, not breaking the kiss once, to pin you against the wall and lift you up against it.

Your legs lock around his hips. Your heart hammers, hands trapped in one of his against the wall. His other slides down your side to your thigh, squeezing it teasingly. You release a muffled sound of pleasant surprise against his mouth.

_Common area… shouldn’t be doing this here…_

“Sid,” You gasp out against his mouth, panting breathlessly. “Not here-”

He grunts, palming the underside of your thigh, while his thumb rubs against the sensitive spot he found a while back, on the front of it. You barely stifle your moan, pleasure wracking your body and wreaking havoc on your somewhat overstimulated nerves. “Damn the rules-”

Mid-objection, several sets of footsteps pound away up the stairs, faster than usual for humans. Panicked, your eyes fly open. You jerk your head to the side, lips detaching from Sid’s. He’s just about let you down and steadied you on your feet when two familiar, but rather large, forms bolt through the door to the stairs and into the hallway.

“Shi-”

Sid doesn’t get to finish his curse.

Jess, his pet Dalmatian, bounds straight at him, barrelling into him and launching herself at him so hard he’s literally thrown to the ground. He hits the floor as the second form does the exact same with you, slamming into you with the force of a freight train.

You crash against the floor, pain bursting in your head. Arthur’s familiar face hovers above your own, the Spaniel’s eyes wide with joy. You squeal when he licks your face, standing all over you and practically vibrating with excitement.

You see, once everything had settled down and you were all sure you were spending the summer here, Sid and Alyn drove back to Wysteria, picking up Jess and Arthur. Since Alyn and Leo hadn’t been in their dorm to take care of Arthur, Sid asked his adoptive father, Archduke Grandier, to take care of him for the time being. An immense lover of dogs and already fond of Alyn, he agreed immediately.

Once you’re all back today, Alyn and Leo will be taking care of him again, of course. The college allowed them to, in the same way they let them have Sebastian, let Byron, Albert and Nico keep Spinner, Benjamin and Chirol, let Giles have Michelangelo and Robert have Amber. However, they were all required to move to a different dorm room, one that’s animal-friendly, which was a small sacrifice to make.

“Arthur!” You yelp out, trying to pry the giddy canine off without chucking him entirely. “Stop! Oi, stop licking me! Ahh! Not in my mouth!”

“Arthur!” A new voice bellows down the hallway. In a fraction of a second, Arthur freezes, then leaps off you before sinking to the floor, sinking down in a guilty blob of white and brown fur. You groan, holding your throbbing head, until a hand reaches down, accompanied by a sigh. “Tch. You need to stop doing that, Arthur. I’m serious. If she’s hurt, you’re in trouble.”

You glance up, accepting the hand. Alyn tugs you to your feet, taking hold of your arms to allow you to regain your balance. He reaches up when you’re relatively steady, prodding somewhat too hard at the back of your head. You wince. “Goddammit. You’ve got a lump already.” He leers at Arthur with a heated glare, snapping, “That’s your snacks for the week forfeited.”

Arthur whines, almost like he understands the punishment he’s going to receive. Alyn looks back to you now, pressing his hand more gently against the sore spot. “Sorry; they both ran past me when I was coming in from the garden. You okay?”

You nod, waiting for the liquid in your head to settle, and for the memory of Sid’s kiss to leave you be while you speak. “Yeah, I’m fine. He took me by surprise.”

“And me. Goddammit, Jess, way to ruin the moment.” Sid grumbles, sat on the floor with one leg propped up, the other stretched out, and Jess lying down between them. She rolls onto her back, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth, while her tail wags and she wiggles about innocently. “Don’t even try acting cute. I ain’t forgiving you.”

She bounces up without warning, all but attacking him and pinning him to the floor once more. His swears echo through the entire house.

Alyn rolls his eyes, taking your hand. “Hey. Come outside for a bit, while the others get stuff ready.”

Before you got with the boys, you would have been highly suspicious and concerned by him asking for such a thing. Now, though, he does this when he wants a moment alone with you, and so his words send little flutters through your tummy. “Okay.”

He smiles slightly, tugging you toward the door to the stairs. Arthur bounds up and over to you both once you start moving, following you down the stairs and into the entrance. It’s empty in there, but Alyn takes no notice, instead guiding you through the deserted living room and out the back door.

You squint when the bright sun glares down into your eyes, but you soon adjust, and are completely fine by the time he’s led you through the garden. He walks into a space between two of the tall hedges, where there’s raised concrete acting as steps up to a small fountain on a podium. Arthur trots alongside you both pridefully, sniffing everything he possibly can, tail wagging all the while.

Alyn sighs at this point, sinking down to the ground and coaxing you down with him. He sits you between his legs, tucking his arms around your stomach tightly and resting his face against your neck. Your heart beats erratically for a few moments, and you try to fight down your widening smile as he relaxes against you, breathing out gradually. Arthur plonks himself down next to you both, rolling onto his side.

Alyn’s hands are so warm, you feel, when you rest your own atop them. He plays with the buttons of your coat, eyes closed, expression for once at peace and content. It makes him look so much younger and more innocent, you observe, admiring the russet tones of his hair almost glowing in the sunlight.

“You’re nervous.”

“What?”

Eyes now open, he stares up at you, expression unreadable. You blink, confused by his statement, and he simply sighs before sitting up straighter. He gazes down at you, head above yours, while you lean back against his chest. “You’re nervous about telling your mother. It’s pretty easy to see.”

You make a face, shaking your head and deflecting, “I’m not. I just don’t want to leave; I love it here.”

“Tch.” He tuts. “Of course you’re not. You know what’s going to happen if you lie again, right?”

Your pupils expand, head whipping around. He’s smirking.

_Uh oh._

“I’m not lying.” You hold your ground, somehow wanting him to see through the lie, just so you can find out what will happen; you imagine you’ll enjoy it. “I’m fine.”

Your lips curl up into a miniature smirk. “Are you sure you’re not nervous, Alyn? You’re about to tell my mother that you’re my boyfriend, and that you’re part of a polyamorous relationship. Are you certain you’re not nervous yourself?”

You thought that would get to him. It doesn’t.

His smirk only widens. “Nope. I’m not nervous at all.” He leans down, moving his lips to leave them hovering above your jaw, tone husky and resonating through his chest as he murmurs, “And you just lied. Bad choice, Princess.”

He’s on you in a second.

He flips you around so you’re on your back, draping you against the stone step. His hands fly down, fingers starting to tickle your sides and stomach mercilessly. Arthur bounces up, growling but dancing around you both, tail wagging a mile a minute.

You scream, laughter bursting through mid-way, before you grip his wrists and try to disengage the tickle monster from you. He doesn’t let you, straddling your waist and leaning down to blow in your ear, earning another delighted cry from you. He ends up laughing as well, a real, beautiful one that sends your already pounding heart racing even faster.

Amidst his attack, his lips find yours. You giggle and laugh against his mouth, stuck between kissing him with everything you’ve got and focusing on his addictively torturous touch. He relents after a moment, ceasing his assault, before he supports himself on his forearms, body hovering over yours. You pant beneath him, still grasping at his wrists, but soon release them to reach up and cradle his face instead.

He grins slightly, whispering against your lips, “Told you. Don’t lie to me, Princess.”

Another giggle erupts from you. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t call that a punishment; I’d call it incentive to be dishonest more often.”

He rolls his eyes, flushed cheeks burning a darker crimson. “Geez. You’re really in for it now.”

He sits up, shifting down so he’s kneeling next to your legs. His fingers descend on you once more, this time on your thighs, dragging you closer and raising it up.

Your screech echoes through the garden, body half suspended with the way he’s holding your legs. He tickles your leg even harder than he did your waist. Your hands beat at the floor and his arms, lungs heaving with laughter. He howls with laughter himself, teasing, “Beg for mercy, Princess. I’m not stopping unless you give up.” He grins widely. “Hey, do it in Spanish. I’ve been practicing.”

The words form quickly, out of desperation, and your pride chucks itself out of the window for the sake of your oxygen levels. “ _Por favor! Ahh, no! Misericordia! No es justo, Alyn! Por favor, me rindo! No cosquillas!_ ”  _Please! Ahh, no! Mercy! That’s not fair, Alyn! Please, I surrender! No tickling!_

“Really now, Crawford. Every time I find you alone with her, you’re in the process of assaulting her in some way, shape or form. It’s worrying, considering that you intend to be a knight.”

Alyn all but jumps out of his skin, dropping your legs with surprise before whirling around. Your head snaps up, flushed cheeks darkening further.

Albert sighs, a blush teasing at his own, dusting them with a light rose hue. “Princess, all of your things have been packed, except for more sensitive items we thought best to leave to you. If you would come with me, we’ll be leaving soon.”

You heave yourself upright, gasping for breath and considerably embarrassed by being caught by Albert. “Yeah, of course! Sorry.”

He nudges his glasses up, clearing his throat, while he makes his way over to you. His fingers curl around your forearm gently, and he pulls you to your feet, sending a withering look at Alyn. “Also, I would remind you that this is not a permitted location for such contact, as per rule six of the relationship. Whilst it is protected because of the hedges, outside is not safe nor allowed. I would remember that, Crawford.”

Alyn just scoffs, glaring at Albert. The tension between the two practically buzzes in the air. “Yeah, right. Duly noted.”

Albert scowls. Deciding to stop this before it reaches the point of fisticuffs, you take hold of Albert’s forearm lightly, giving it a calming squeeze. “Come on. I’ll go and pack now, okay?”

His jaw tightens, lips tightening into a thin line for a second. After a moment, though, he exhales quietly, nodding. “Yes.”

You beam at him. “Good.” You send your smile to Alyn as well, giving him a little wave. “See you in a bit. Make sure you’re ready to go as well, okay?”

He sends the wave back, albeit dismissively, mumbling, “Yeah, yeah. I’m all ready to go.” He huffs, patting Arthur’s head. “I’ll get Arthur and Jess in the car.”

You hum, happy that doesn’t seem too put-out by being caught. Albert keeps your arm in his grip, using it to tug you through the garden, back toward the house. On the way there, his fingers slide down, instead sliding through your own and holding on with cautious pressure. You see that his cheeks are flushed again, and that he’s fiddling with his glasses with the other hand, obviously nervous about holding your hand.

So, you give it a tender squeeze, brushing your thumb over his.

You cut a glance at him, just for a moment. His smile is impossible to miss, and it takes your breath away.

He escorts you inside and through the house, up to your room once more. Your suitcase is out and on the bed, most of your clothes arranged inside neatly. He gestures to the drawers and places that have been left alone, like your underwear drawer, blush darkening all the while. You laugh to yourself quietly, thanking him and getting started.

It takes maybe ten minutes to gather your things, at which point you check over the whole room again with Albert, ensuring that it’s entirely empty and that you haven’t left anything behind.

Sure you’re done, you sigh softly, staring around the room that you’ve considered to be, to an extent, your real bedroom, for the past month and a half. You feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving, wanting nothing more than to stay and live with the boys, perhaps, forever.

“I’m going to miss it here.” You murmur fondly, gazing around the familiar room. Your fingers brush across the sheet of the otherwise bare bed, a smile gracing your lips. “I’ve loved staying here.”

Albert’s fingers ghost across your palm, then entwine with yours. Your eyes drift up to him, and you pause, seeing him smiling ever so slightly as well. “You will return, that much is certain. Believe me when I say, myself, Byron and Nico will not allow the Wysterians to keep you all to themselves.”

Your heartbeat falters at the certainty in his voice, and the strong words. His other hand comes up, cupping your cheek ever so delicately, nimble fingers tucking your hair behind your ear and massaging the side of your neck. He clears his throat. “Admittedly, it will be rather strange, and perhaps even somewhat uncomfortable, to not have you with us at all times. I think we have all become acclimatised to it now, to having you there, and so we’ll all find it to some extent difficult to adjust to.”

The wistful look in his eyes could rend your heart in two. Your free hand settles atop his, on your face, while you speak softly. “We’ll see each other in college, and maybe after college, at least. It’s not as often as we can here, but it’s still something.”

He releases a gentle breath, almost a laugh.

“Indeed, that is true. Plus,” He diverts his eyes, blush intensifying again. He takes a moment to compose himself, at which point he leans down, resting his forehead against yours. He stares down at you, eyes loving and complex and swirling with emotion, for once vulnerable and completely exposed, stripped of all guards and barriers. “Byron, Nico and I fully intend to bring you back here for the half-term and end-of-term holidays, if you would like to return. The others may come with us, of course.”

Your heart soars. You can come back, can live like this again, in only seven or so weeks. “I’d love that. Thank you, Albert; I’d really love to come back.”

His lips break into an impossibly beautiful smile, relieved and innocently joyful. “Good. Then I shall inform Byron, and we will make the arrangements to bring you back with the others during the holidays.”

His thumb makes a warm, slow descent down your cheek from your cheekbone, then across your jaw, before circling back up to your mouth. He swallows hard, his own lips parting. You can see his hesitation, and his nervousness, so you squeeze his hand gently, whispering, “Albert, it’s okay.”

He’s kissed you before. All of them have; they each kissed you for the first time within the week of your relationship being established, but some have done more than others.

Take Nico, earlier, being as bold as to touch your thigh while you were only in your dressing gown. That’s in comparison to Albert, who’s only kissed you four times so far, and otherwise simply hugged or held you. Alyn and Louis have kissed and touched you a bit more than Albert, but nothing too intense. Byron, Giles, Leo, Robert and Sid have kissed you a lot more, as well as touching you much more than the aforementioned boys.

It’s a case-by-case sort of thing. Each boy is moving at different speeds, and you’re moving with each one at that speed, doing what they’re comfortable with, while making sure it’s something you’re happy with, as well. If they cross any lines, you’ll let them know. You have yet to reach that point.

Back to the present, Albert sighs quietly, but his eyes fill with determination. Your own close, and he leans in close to you.

He’s so gentle. His barely brushes his lips across yours at first, just a ghost’s kiss. He does it again, this time with more pressure, but still very carefully. His hand releases yours, slipping around your back, to settle on your side and coax you into his arms properly. Both of your hands rest on his chest, fingers curling around the lapels of his jacket.

The hand on your face drifts around to the back of your head, cradling it, keeping it there and holding you still while he kisses you once more. This time, it’s deeper, still testing the water but with more confidence than before. It gives you those little flutters inside you again, to be touched with such delicate care and love.

He lets out a slow, controlled breath, breaking the kiss. You understand; he needs to take things slowly. He’s not long come to understand his feelings, and needs time to get used to something so different from what he’s accustomed to. If this is all he can do right now, you won’t push him.

“___, are you in there?”

Byron’s voice sounds through the door, drawing your attention away from Albert. Your eyes flit to the door, then back to his face, still flushed. His mouth turns up in a small smile again, before he presses it to your forehead, breathing out, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You murmur, savouring the tender touch. He lets you go after a moment, and you step back, toward the door. “I’ll go and talk to Byron; I’m guessing we’ll be going soon.”

He nods. “Yes. I will take your suitcase to the car. Make sure that you have everything you carry on your person, like your phone and charger.”

You nod back. “I will. Thank you, Albert.”

With that, you open the door, finding Byron stood outside in his dark jacket and casual clothes. He smiles just a little. “ _Dobroye utro_. Are you ready to go?”

You grin at his use of the Russian words for good morning. “ _Dobroye utro_. Yeah, I just need to make sure I’ve got my phone, tablet and iPod, as well as my charger, and then I should be ready.”

He hums low in his throat, offering you his hand. “If I recall, you left them in my room yesterday. Shall we go and get them?”

Your head bobs up and down, hand slipping into his. He curls his fingers through yours, then escorts you down the corridor and to his room. Taking you inside, he guides you over to the love seat where you’ve spent so much time with him, sitting and talking or reading or… well, doing other things.

He sits down, then tugs you toward him, so that you end up with your knees on either side of him, straddling his hips. Your skin warms at the position, and how he locks his arms around your waist, bringing your chest flush against him, faces inches from each other.

“Byron?” He chuckles, deep and almost dangerous. His face comes to nuzzle into your throat, hands gripping your side and back with firm but pleasant pressure. You shiver, feeling him dusting tiny little kisses across your collarbone. “Ah… Byron…”

He makes a sound of satisfaction, moving you even closer to him. His teeth graze over your collarbone, causing your muscles to tense, nerve endings practically set alight by the sensation. A sound somehow crossed between a groan and a growl purrs out from him, his grasp on you tightening through your coat. He lavishes your collarbone with kisses, eventually making a gradual trail down to the centre of your chest.

Your pulse thunders, body clenched with the onslaught of pleasure. He kisses the same spot again, just shy of encroaching into prohibited territory. He lifts you up and against him higher, so he can deepen the contact more and more. Your fingers are buried in his hair by this point, gripping without actually hurting him, and your head is tipped back, face set in torturous bliss.

He breaks away after a few more seconds, breathing hard and slightly flushed himself. He gazes down at the spot, unmarked but just slightly rose-hued from the pressure he used. Lips quirking into a gorgeous smile, he reaches up to stroke your cheek, studying your now-hazy eyes and slightly dazed expression. “You’re so beautiful. You always are, but even more so like this. It’ll be torture, to not have you with us from now on.”

You try to get your breathing under control, mind still foggy from his kisses. “We have the timetable, so hopefully I’ll be able to see everyone after college, as well as during college. You guys know you can always come to my house; mum loves having you over.” You sigh shakily. “Assuming she doesn’t disown me once we tell her about this.”

He smiles again, gaze reassuring, confident and unworried, shaking his head. “She will do no such thing, ___. Trust us; she will accept it.”

They all seem so sure of this, even though they have very little reason, really, to feel that way.  “You all seem so certain. Why?”

He just chuckles lowly. “We just have a very strong feeling that it will go well.” He reaches over, to the edge of the couch, before presenting your tablet and iPod to you. “Here. Your bag is next to you, and your charger is already in there.”

You nod, putting the two items in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder; your phone is already in your pocket. “Thank you.” He’s watching you closely, you observe, and immediately you become confused as to why. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, instead sliding his hands up, warm skin smoothing over your cheeks before cradling your jaw. “I will say it again, ___. Trust us. You’re worried, even if you’re trying not to be. Have faith in all of us, and in your mother. She loves you, and will accept you regardless of who you love. I don’t want you to be going to her today, after not seeing her for nearly two months, feeling fear. I want you to go to her with nothing but happiness.”

The words make your heart ache.

_He’s right, even though it would be wrong with anyone else. My mum loves me, and always has loved me. That’s unconditional; she doesn’t care in the slightest who I am. She didn’t even sound bothered about the idea when she proposed it to me on the phone, which caused me to actually work out that I’m in love with the boys._

You sigh, but you end up smiling, nodding more surely. “Yeah. I know; I trust you. She’ll love me regardless of what and who I am.”

He makes a sound of agreement. “Indeed, she will.”

He stands now, lifting you off him and to your feet, before he takes your hand in his. He walks over to the balcony doors, opening one and whistling lowly. There’s a beat of fleeting silence, and then the sound of wings flapping. A second later, Spinner dives up from somewhere in the garden, soaring inside the room. Byron holds his arm up, and Spinner lands on it without hesitation, settling there comfortably and talons gripping his sleeve tightly. Byron locks the doors, then smiles and tugs you toward the door to the hallway.

He takes you downstairs, where you see Louis waiting in the entrance, the others clustered near the doors to the front, fountain and cars. Louis gives you a heart-breaking smile. “Good morning, Princess.”

You beam back at him, coming to a gradual halt before him with Byron. “Good morning. Are you ready to go?”

He nods. “Yes. Are you?”

You hum. “Yep, all ready.”

You look to the side, seeing what the others are doing. Alyn and Sid are now apparently trying to wrestle Arthur and Jess, both of whom seem to be acting rather uncooperatively, into Sid’s car. The suitcases are in the boots of the cars, and the boys each have their respective pets close to them.

Nico has Chirol in a clear hamster cage, with pink tunnels and features like a little house for him to sleep in. Spinner is still on Byron’s arm, but he takes off when Byron releases your hand and crouches down next to his portable cage and opens it. He flies inside, settling there comfortably, perched atop the rung. Albert has Benjamin in a portable cage of his own, bouncing around happily. Giles has Michelangelo in a carry case, and he seems quite content in there, curled up while he watches everything going on around him.

Lucia is in her own portable cage next to Louis, chirping and singing while she hops around. Leo has Sebastian on his shoulder, but he eventually picks his own cage up and opens it, instructing Sebastian to get in. With some grumbled squawks, the parrot flies in, and Leo locks the cage door. Finally, Robert has Amber in a portable hamster house, hers decorated with hints of green. She sits inside, studying everything going on around her curiously.

_We have so many pets. I wonder if we’ll all fit in the cars._

You rub the back of your head, pondering this, when Louis steps up beside you and places a gentle hand on the small of your back. You glance up at him, tilting your head. He smiles softly. “Will you come with me for a moment? They’re going to need to try and get everyone in the cars, so I wanted to have a minute alone with you.”

Your heart practically sings.

_He’s so sweet._

“Of course.” He takes your hand tenderly, tugging you toward the ballroom, behind the staircase. You send Byron a smile over your shoulder. “We’ll be back in a sec.”

He just smiles amusedly, head drifting up and down.

Louis takes you inside, the ballroom lit from the sun through the large windows. The grandiose interior to seems dream-like, even though you’ve been in here so many times now.

Louis guides you to the centre, where he winds his arm around your waist, raising your hand up. Making a point of bringing your chin perpendicular to the floor with a grin, you place your free hand on his shoulder. He allows himself a soft, rare grin as well, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes are like the ocean, deep and pure, swirling and complex with emotion.

You could get lost in them. You could even drown in them.

“Alyn told me you’re nervous about talking to your mother.” He murmurs, leading you into a slow, gradual rotation, simply moving in a slow, controlled circle. You laugh quietly.

“I’m not, don’t worry. Or, if I am, I’m fine; I think it’s normal, considering that I’m going to be telling my mum that I’m in love with my nine best friends.” He laughs as well, nodding. His golden hair seems to dance around his eyes, catching the sun and gleaming with a heavenly shine.

“I suppose that’s true. I just wanted to tell you, we’re all here with you. We’ll be there every step of the way, but you really don’t have anything to worry about. We want you to just be honest when we get home, to tell her exactly what you feel, and everything will be fine. Trust us.”

_Byron said the same thing. They definitely know something._

“You guys know something I don’t.” Your statement is met by a sight even rarer than his grin; an almost mischievous twinkle glitters in his eyes, his smile now turning almost childish. You frown, not wanting to be left out again. Last time you were, it nearly ruined you all. “Louis, tell me. Don’t leave me out again, please. If you know something, tell me.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t; I’m sorry. If I could, I would, but it’s a surprise. You’ll find out as soon as we get to Wysteria, I promise. For now, just please, try to forget about your worry.”

You can hear the others moving about; apparently, they’re finishing up getting everything in the cars. Louis sighs. “We have to go.” Using your hand as leverage, he tugs you against him, his head dipping down to yours. “Consider this my apology for not being able to tell you.”

His lips press against yours in a light, yet sweet and gentle kiss. It’s innocent, whilst also very much not. It’s like a promise of more to come, something simple and pure, but with darker undertones. It sends a shudder trembling up your spine, fingers reflexively gripping his harder. He hums into the kiss, almost breathing out the sound, eliciting a shiver from you.

And then he stops, reluctantly pulling back. “I’ll kiss you properly later, when I get a better chance. For now, let’s go.”

Your mind is still reeling when he guides you back into the entrance, where you can see Giles waiting, Albert and Byron stood outside. Louis takes you over to Giles, who smiles, giving him a nod. “I trust you’ve sufficiently greeted her?”

Louis returns the nod. “Yes.”

_Wait, does Giles know he took me in there just to kiss me?_

Your cheeks swiftly heat up. You swear, you’re going to end up with a blood pressure problem, with the way these boys coordinate themselves around you.

Giles grins impishly, reaching out to slide a hand around your waist, resting against your lower back. Louis lifts your hand, kissing it with impossible delicacy, before he gives you a smile and walks through the door to head to the cars.

As soon as his back is turned, Giles spins you into the cradle of his arms, twirling you around and earning a surprised squeak from you.

He laughs, coming to a gradual halt just before the wall next to the doors. He leans you back against it, embracing your middle and jaw with the utmost care and love. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, and he sighs contentedly, breathing out, “It appears everyone else has had the chance to say good morning. I wanted to do so now, since it seems as though you will be riding in Byron’s car, and so I will not have the opportunity to see you again until we arrive in Wysteria.”

A pang of guilt twinges through your heart. Your eyes drop to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

He’s silent for a brief moment, thumb stilling against your lip.

Then, he lowers his head, pressing his lips against your forehead in a long, slow, deep kiss.

“Oh, Princess ___,” Your breath catches in your throat; you don’t think any of the boys have ever used your name in conjunction with ‘Princess’ before. “You sweet, sweet girl. You have nothing to apologise for – if anything, it’s my fault for not sabotaging the others’ attempts to get to you before me. I’ll have to remember that in the future.”

He tilts your head up, fingers sliding under your chin with an almost feather-light touch. A shiver rattles your spine, breathing quickening at the intensely loving gaze he studies you with. “ _Bonjour, ma précieuse. Je t’aime_.”

_Good morning, my precious. I love you._

With that, he gives you a sweet, surprisingly soft kiss, different to his usually intense, passionate ones. This one gives you tingles all through your body, the comparatively light and nimble contact eliciting a much subtler, but somehow addictive and intoxicating, reaction from your body. Your hands find his wrists, grasping at them, to which he chuckles against your mouth.

Staying simple, it seems, he pulls back after a few seconds. Observing your slightly confused expression, he grins majestically, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “I decided to be a bit gentler than usual, so as to not send you off to the car with the Steiners and Robert looking like a tomato.” Naturally, that just worsens your blush, making him laugh once more. “Adorable to the last, ___. Come; let us depart for home.“

He takes your hand, walking out to the front with you. You turn to watch as Byron and Albert lock the doors, Albert tapping away at his phone immediately afterward, before Byron nods. You reach Byron’s car, a black Toyota Prius Plus, where you see Robert sat on the rightmost side of the three-seater row, in the middle of the car, while Nico is on the left. In their footwells are Amber and Chirol, in their cages.

Behind Byron’s car is Sid’s, a comparatively white Toyota Prius Plus, where Sid is in the driver’s seat, Michelangelo’s case in the passenger seat. Alyn is in the centre seat in the middle row, with Arthur and Jess on either side of him, while Leo and Louis are in the rear row, with Sebastian and Lucia in their cages on their knees respectively.

Nico grins from Byron’s car, reaching out to you. “Come here, Princess! You’re between us!”

Giles grins once more, brushing an airy kiss against your knuckle. “Do feel free to scold him in my place as is appropriate, ___.”

You laugh, nodding. “Of course I will. As appropriate.”

Winking, he all but glides around Byron’s car to Sid’s, where he gets in the passenger seat and puts Michelangelo on his knee in the case. You let Nico grab you, then lift you onto his lap, before sliding you into the centre seat between him and Robert.

Byron and Albert get in now, in the driver and passenger seat, and it’s at this point that Albert turns to you. “___, would you be able to keep Spinner on your lap while we drive? It would be unsafe to leave his cage on a seat or on the floor, since it could fall over while we drive.”

You nod, head bouncing up and down. “Of course!”

He smiles just slightly at your enthusiasm, producing said owl in his cage from his seat. He lifts it through to you, and you take it, settling it on your lap. Spinner hoots softly, head tilting periodically. You giggle just a little, finding his actions adorable.

Nico closes his door while Byron and Albert do the same, before Byron then starts the car, instructing, “Seat belts, please. I’d rather not have any of us die, should we be involved in an accident.”

You put yours on, as do the rest of the boys. Byron calls Sid through the car’s Bluetooth system, the sound resonating through the speakers around you. The dialling tone ceases, followed by Sid’s extraordinarily casual, “Yo. I’ll follow you.”

Byron nods. “Good. We’ll stay to seventy on the motorway for the sake of the animals.”

Sid makes a sound of agreement. “Damn. I was hoping to see that damn parrot get his feathers all ruffled.”

You hear Leo’s indignant response to that, quiet but audible. “Hey, screw you. It’s Jess who’ll end up flying around the car; I’ve got Sebastian on my knee. She’s just on a seat.”

Sid grumbles, swearing under his breath. You hear Giles sigh.

“Anyway,” Byron brings the conversation back on track. “Are we ready?” He peers at the dashboard for a brief moment. “If we leave now, we should be arriving in Wysteria for about roundabouts one o’clock.”

“Yeah, let’s go now. We need time to get everyone back.” Sid agrees. Byron drives forward, the hybrid engine purring smoothly as he pulls away from the house and to the gates. He scans his key card at the reader, and the gates open, allowing him and Sid to drive through them. “That butler of yours is coming back again to watch the house, right?”

Byron nods. “Yes. He’ll take care of it and ensure that it remains secure while we’re away, along with our security. They’ll be arriving shortly as well.”

You remember the first time you found out that they had a butler and security team, four days after you entered the relationship; prior, they’d told you about having “guards”, but you didn’t quite grasp the meaning of that. You’d just woken up and were coming downstairs for breakfast, the others already awake and down there, when you came face-to-face with the butler and security coming in through the front doors.

Stood there in shorts and a vest, you could only stare, completely confused at how they could have gotten in without having key cards. Albert, Byron and Nico soon came out, hearing the butler greeting you cheerfully, followed by the rest of the boys, all of whom were aware of the butler and security. You were unable to respond to the butler from nervousness and worry, and Leo, Nico and Sid ended up in hysterics at your complete bafflement.

The security team found it quite hilarious as well.

“This is Roderick,” Byron had explained, tucking an arm around your waist reassuringly. This had only confused you further, since you would have thought he would avoid touching you intimately in front of anyone, like he would outside the house, since they’re not a part of the group. He had realised this swiftly and simply laughed, leaning down to press his lips to your head and murmur,

“The others have already agreed to this; this is our butler and security team. They maintain a permanent residence here, in a smaller house within the grounds of the estate. They’ve been with us for years, so we can trust them, but we decided that we would just give the impression that you’re my girlfriend, since they’re more likely to leave you alone that way.”

You had ended up blushing and hiding in his chest, but you had nodded anyway.

Even now, you find your skin warming at the embarrassing memory.

Sid snorts. “Remember ___’s face when she first saw them all? That was hysterical.”

You groan, hands flying up and smacking against your face. “Sid, shut up! It wasn’t funny! I was completely confused and actually really worried, especially when Byron started acting like… that.”

You cry out with embarrassment, exclaiming, “Someone should have warned me! You can’t just have me walk downstairs to a bunch of strangers in the house I thought was only accessible by all of us, then spring it on me that, as far as they’re concerned, I’m only together with one of my nine boyfriends!”

Nico falls about with giggles. You can hear Sid and Leo’s howls through the phone, even with the rumbling of the normal engine kicking in alongside the electric one, now that you’re on the motorway. “Oh my God, she’s still so embarrassed over it!” Leo practically screams through his laughter. “Someone keep talking about it!”

You genuinely start to think Sid’s going to crash with how hard he’s laughing, and that you’re going to die from the blood rushing to your face, as well as the embarrassment sucking your skull inside itself. You shrink down in your seat, shaking your head against your hands.

Sid manages to speak again, gasping out, “What, you mean like how she ended up using Byron as a human shield, wouldn’t – or more couldn’t – speak to any of them, blushed as soon as she walked past any of them again, and how she legitimately nearly collapsed when Byron kissed her in front of the security team the next day?”

You make a sound you’ve never quite made before, yelping, “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! It’s not funny! Leave me alone!”

All the boys are laughing to some extent now, you hear; even Albert’s soft chuckles and Alyn’s dark, rumbled ones through the speakers can be heard around you. This only makes you feel more and more like a deer in the headlights, and you slide to the side, moaning out to Robert, “Please let me lie down so I can hide and die.”

He sucks in a ragged breath around his own laughs, responding adoringly, “Of course, Princess. May you die in peace.”

“Thank you.”

You drop down, peeking through your fingers while you do, to lie your torso across his thighs, keeping Spinner’s cage atop your knee with one hand instead. Robert’s hand settles atop your head, stroking your hair soothingly, while the boys’ laughter dies down and your blush does the same.

But even when the conversation changes, and your skin is back to normal – for now – you don’t move, and Robert doesn’t once want you to. You stay there, comfortable and content, his hands on your face and in your hair, as you inevitably draw closer and closer to home.

 **♡** **♔** **♡**


	2. Part II | Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

Two hours later, you cross the border been Wysteria and Stein, entering Hellebore.

As soon as you see the signs welcoming you all, your nerves go haywire. All your nervousness and worry comes flooding back, and you hunch in on yourself, hugging Spinner’s cage tightly. The boys notice this immediately, of course.

“Princess,” Robert murmurs, tone soothing and calm. He rubs your back and shoulder in a repetitive, circular motion. “It will be fine, I promise. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

You make a sound of acknowledgement, but you say nothing.

_Easy for them to say. It’s not their mother they need to tell._

About twenty minutes after returning to Wysteria, both cars pull into the Royal Wysterian Academy. You unclip your seat belt, getting ready to move.

The boys explained the plan along the way; since Albert, Byron, Giles, Alyn, Leo, Nico and Robert all live in the dorms, it makes more sense for them to all be dropped off there first, and then you can go with Sid and Louis to their houses to unpack, before doing the same with you, by which point the others should be done and ready to meet up with you there, for the reveal.

Byron parks in the almost-empty car park, and Sid does the same. Robert opens his door, and you hand Spinner to Nico, then climb out of the car over Robert. Once you’re on flat ground again, you give the guys a wave. “See you all at my house in a bit, then?”

That’s met with nods and smiles. You grin, bouncing over to Sid’s car. The boys all start to get out of the cars, and Alyn hisses out a swear as both Jess and Arthur attempt to escape once more, fighting against the leads now attached to their collars. Sid swiftly runs around, taking Jess’ lead, so that Alyn can better control Arthur.

“Goddamn,” The latter mutters. “When did he become so strong?”

Sid grunts, struggling similarly with Jess. “Same here. You guys got moved to one of the animal-friendly dorms, right? So, you can keep him with you?”

Alyn nods. “Yeah, he stays with us.”

Sid returns the gesture. “Good. If they give you any hassle over it or whatever and you need someone to look after him, give me a call. My dad loves dogs, so he won’t mind taking him again.”

Alyn’s cheeks gain a slight rose hue, but his eyes and tone are grateful. “Yeah, I will. Thanks.”

You’ve been helping Leo and Giles to get their things, as well as Alyn’s, out of the car up until this point, but now you finish, only Sid and Louis’ things left in there. You hop over to the boot of Byron’s car, popping it open and lifting your own suitcase and larger bag out. Closing the boot once more, you take the things to Sid’s car, where Leo helps you lift them into the boot. Mission accomplished, you give him a grateful smile, then a little wave, before walking over to Sid.

“Hi,” You greet him, reaching out toward Jess’ lead. “Here, I’ll stay with her while we ride back.”

He nods, handing the lead over cautiously. “Yeah. She’s pretty strong, though-”

As soon as it’s you holding the lead, Jess sits next to your legs obediently, leaning against them before nudging her face against your hand. You grin. “Hi, Jess. There she is…”

As you descend into cooed baby-talk with the Dalmatian, Sid rolls his eyes, snapping under his breath, “Fuckin’ girl code. I swear…”

He gets into the driver seat again, while you get in the centre seat of the middle row in his car, Jess laying across your lap once you’re settled and have your belt on. Louis remains in the back with Lucia, and the others give you three a wave. You give it back, and Sid calls through the open window, “Message us when you’re ready, and we’ll see where we’re up to.”

They nod collectively. Sid reverses out, then turns out of the car park again, setting off for his house so Jess can be dropped off first. It only takes another twenty minutes of banter between Sid and Louis, and then he rolls up to his manor, the gates opening once he scans his key card. He drives up to the front before bringing the car to a gentle stop.

You get out with Jess now, and she bounces beside you with excitement. Sid retrieves his things from the boot, then produces his keys, unlocking the door and going inside.

Inside, the manor is very traditional and impressively large. Accented with tones of blue, it has a warm, calm atmosphere, the subtle decoration and hidden luxury giving it an air of wondrous mystery. Upon going in through the doors, there is a foyer, smaller than the one in Albert, Byron and Nico’s mansion, with a set of stairs directly ahead leading up to the first floor. Walls with connecting corridors line the foyer’s outer edges, with rooms then lining those corridors.

Louis wanders in behind you, Lucia temporarily left in the car, and you follow Sid with Jess. The house appears to be empty, as you end up going through the hallway and upstairs without encountering his dad.

Sid just shrugs at this, going into his unexpectedly tidy room and chucking his suitcase onto the bed. “Maybe he’s out somewhere. Who knows. That shit can be sorted out later.”

Once he makes his way down with you and Louis again, he heads into the kitchen, muttering, “Nah, I bet he’s at the embassy-”

Upon entering the kitchen, you find Archduke Grandier stood at the window, staring out at the garden, sipping at what smells like tea.

He looks over upon hearing Sid’s voice, and then a beaming smile graces his lips. “Ah, you’re back. Welcome home. And ___, and Louis, as well! What a lovely surprise.”

Jess whines, struggling intensely against your hold now. You unclip the lead, letting her bound over to the Archduke. She barks in hysterical joy once he crouches down to greet her, tail wagging a mile a minute while she jumps up on him. He chuckles, stroking her affectionately. “And my Jess, of course. I’ve missed you, darling. I imagine you enjoyed Stein, eh?”

He stands now, approaching the three of you with a soft, tender smile. “Ah, I’ve missed you all. It’s been eerily quiet without you around.” He grins at you, holding his arms out in invitation. “___, would you be a dear and allow me a hug? Sid’s far too prideful and refuses to hug me.”

You grin back, nodding and stepping toward him. You hug him tightly, feeling him doing the same in that familiar, yet somehow distantly fatherly way, warm and protective and kind. “He’s just refusing because he knows you’re a better hugger than him. Right, Sid?” You cut Sid a teasing look, as well as a smug smirk. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Yeah, right.” Sid almost growls. He stalks over to you, suddenly all but throwing his arms around the two of you. You squeak, not expecting to suddenly be squished between the two Grandiers. Sid grumbles, eyes narrowed, “I give the best hugs here and you know it.”

Your eyes settle on Louis, his own hues somewhat sad as he takes in the scene before him. Without thinking, you wriggle your hand out from between them, murmuring, “Come here. It’s okay.”

Surprise and confusion overtake his expression immediately, but he does as you say and comes over. When he’s close enough, you take his wrist and pull him in, laughing out, “Group hug!”

Archduke Grandier laughs heartily, removing an arm from you to hug Louis from the side instead. “Ah, I finally get to hug you, Louis! And Sid, all at once. This might just be the best day I’ve had all year.”

Sid glares at Louis. The latter glares back.

“Dad, speak for yourself.”

“Don’t touch me, Sid.”

“Gladly.”

You share a look with the Archduke. He shakes his head, but he’s grinning. “Some things never change, do they?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

You all detach from each other, and the Archduke sighs, watching Jess pad over to you and paw at your leg. You kneel, letting her sit down between your legs while he speaks. “So, did you all enjoy your holiday?” He casts you a dubious glance. “Sid acted appropriately toward you, I would hope.”

Sid glares at  _him_  now, snapping, “Dad, shut up. Thanks for the vote of goddamn confidence.”

The Archduke sighs. “I trust that you did, Sid. I was just making sure that you indeed acted as I would expect of you.”

Seeing Sid’s irritation building, you speak swiftly, assuring, “Archduke Grandier, Sid didn’t do anything remotely inappropriate. He was really helpful with the whole thing, I promise. We couldn’t have done it without him.”

Sid smirks. “Told ya.”

The Archduke simply smiles, nodding approvingly. “I didn’t doubt that you would do anything less, Sid. I was merely making sure of it.” He turns to you, sighing out, “But, ___, I have told you before – you need not be so formal with me. We are far beyond the point of you addressing me so seriously. Please, just call me James. Being called an Archduke Grandier makes me feel ancient.”

Sid snorts, muttering under his breath, “That’s because you  _are-_ ”

Both Louis and James smack him over the back of the head before he can finish.

The next twenty minutes are spent with Sid begrudgingly sorting his clothes and belongings out, while you and Louis speak to James about the holiday. You leave out the teeny tiny detail about how you’re all in a polyamorous relationship, of course.

Soon after, though, you need to get going, so that Louis can return and get Lucia back home. You hug James tightly, and he sighs into your hair, just as you’re about to leave.

“I’m glad you’re back, ___. Make sure to come and visit me soon again, yes?” He whispers, giving you an encouraging squeeze. You nod, whispering back,

“I will, as soon as I can. Promise.” He lets you go, and you crouch down to Jess, sat at his side obediently. She shoots upright when you do, immediately nuzzling her head and face into you while half climbing on you. You giggle, rubbing her face and ears, cooing, “Aw, there’s a good girl. There’s my Jess. We had fun in Stein, didn’t we? But you’re back home now, so you don’t have to deal with us anymore. You’ll be able to have some peace and quiet, won’t you?”

Behind you, you hear Sid mutter, Louis stood a little way away, nearer to the car, “She can’t interact with kids to save her damn life, but she becomes Mother Theresa with animals.”

“You can’t exactly talk.” Louis snaps. Sid scoffs.

“I’m great with kids, are you kidding? They love me so much they permanently want to play tag with me, and so always run away.”

You can practically see Louis’ glare radiating from him.

Kissing Jess on the nose, then the forehead, you give her a last stroke, mumbling against her fur, “See you soon, sweetie. Make sure you keep attacking Sid like you did before.” Standing up, you turn around, making your way over to Sid and Louis. “Okay. Ready to go?”

Sid nods. “Yep. Get in the car, traitor.” Rolling his eyes at your playful wink and innocent smile, he gives James a one-handed wave. “I’ll be back later, probably tonight. I’m taking Louis and ___ back with their stuff, and then we’ll probably go over any work we need to get done.”

You swing yourself into the passenger seat, watching James nod with an approving smile. “Good. Have fun, and I’ll see you later.”

Sid nods back, then gets in on the driver’s side. Louis is in the centre seat of the middle row, behind you and to your right slightly, and now sighs softly. “My father shouldn’t be home, hopefully. He said he was on a business trip until the 25th.”

Sid grunts, turning the car on and pulling out of the drive. Circling around to go through the gates, swiping his key card as he does, he counters, “Yeah, but he’s also a lying prick that never sticks to his word. He just picked you up from an orphanage and wandered off with ya; do you actually trust him?”

Louis scowls. “You don’t need to remind me. Of course I don’t.”

You send Louis a reassuring smile, turning in your seat to say, “We’ll deal with it when we get there. If he’s not there, we’re lucky. If he is, we’re not lucky, and we’ll just tell him how it is. He knows where you’ve been, so we’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Other than a polyamorous relationship he would shoot Louis for if he found out about it. You’re talking about a guy who still lives in the dark ages.” Sid reminds you both, rather unhelpfully. Rolling your eyes, you flick him on the arm.

“Shush. We’re hiding that, yes. That’s it. We’re going to be fine. Okay?” He shakes his head, but he remains silent. Louis casts his eyes to his hands, expression crestfallen. You reach out, heart aching for him, to cup his face in your palm, murmuring, “Louis, you’ll be fine. We’ll be with you every step of the way, and if he causes trouble, we’re well-equipped to handle whatever he tries to do. He’s not going to hurt any of us. I promised you that a long time ago.”

Louis stares at you, deep eyes swirling with a monsoon of emotion. After a second, he exhales quietly, turning his face to nuzzle his mouth against your palm. He holds your hand there, mumbling, “I know.”

All too soon, you arrive at the Howard Manor. Sid rolls up to the front, and you breathe out slowly, sighing, “Right, let’s do this.”

Without waiting any longer, you unclip your belt and get out, walking around to the boot. Louis and Sid do the same, and you lift Louis’ suitcase out while he carries Lucia, Sid taking Louis’ other bag. Louis, looking marginally nervous, produces his keys, walking up to the door and unlocking it. You remain by the boot with Sid, but move out and come to stand next to Louis when he indicates that it’s safe.

The manor is similar to Sid’s in design, in that it has the foyer, stairs and corridors in a similar layout, but instead, the colour scheme varies more and deviates from just blue, with some paler shades accenting the corridors and rooms. There are white and gold tints, but also darker ones in places, and the entire residence has a much less comfortable, almost eerie feel to it.

A shiver rolls through you as soon as you set foot inside. You sense it instantly; there’s someone in here.

“Louis,” You murmur, hand reaching out to rest on his back gently. He glances over his shoulder at you, blinking at your now tense expression. “There’s someone here.”

His pupils expand just slightly. He motions for you and Sid to stay there, swiftly checking the living room, then the kitchen. He gestures for you both to come to the stairs, where he goes up first himself, checking the hallways to ensure they’re clear. Certain they are, he then escorts you both to his room, where you all go in, putting his things inside. He releases Lucia, allowing her to soar around the room for a few seconds before coming to perch on his finger, tilting her head as if to ask what’s wrong.

“I’m sorry.” He almost whispers, voice filled with shame and regret. “He said they’d all be away, on holiday. I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

“I would think you’re hiding from me, Louis, with the way you barely made any sound coming in. Luckily, I had business to deal with during the holiday, so I’ve been home since the start of the week.”

All of you spin around. Louis’ arm whips out in front of you, gently but swiftly pushing you behind him. Sid shifts forward, standing next to Louis defensively. You’re shielded by their bodies.

Archduke Howard.

You know his voice; you’d recognise it anywhere. He knows who you are and has met you once briefly, but you’ve otherwise thankfully had very little contact with him.

He chuckles, but unlike Archduke Grandier, it’s malicious. It’s dark, sharp and insincere and almost cruel. “Look at you, Louis, protecting your friend as if I’m a threat to her. I would never do such a thing.”

You can’t see around the two, but you hear him step closer, slowly, gradually, almost sadistic in the way he does it. “Then again, it’s nice to see you actually standing up for something, at long last. You’re forever acting so peacefully and pacifistically, it’s a relief to know you’re capable of at least some degree of confrontation.”

You can feel Louis scowling, glaring, at the Archduke. He reaches behind him with the hand holding Lucia, and you immediately understand that he wants you to take her. You coax her onto your finger instead. Louis begins to speak, lowering his hand. You don’t miss his fingers curling in on themselves as he does. “Confrontation gets us nowhere. However, it’s not as if I have no reason to protect her while you’re in the vicinity.”

The Archduke releases a bark of laughter. Louis tenses. “My, my. You certainly have developed a backbone while you were away. Interesting. Very, very interesting, indeed.” There’s a pause, and then his voice becomes marginally more pleasant. “Hello, Lloyd. I presume you enjoyed your holiday?”

Now, Sid tenses as well, but more so than Louis and much faster. You place a warning hand on his back, silently pleading for him to remain calm, even if the Archduke just used the name he absolutely loathes. When he responds, his voice is terse and borderline aggressive. “Yeah, it was fun. Thanks.”

The Archduke snorts. “Wonderful.” He moves even closer to the two. Louis reaches behind himself to press you against his back, and Sid shifts over so that it’s almost impossible to see you. “Really, now. You’re going to stop me from greeting your friend entirely? I didn’t think I raised you to be so rude, Louis.”

Louis doesn’t move in the slightest. “If you recall, you have a reputation for making women, and young girls in particular, feel uncomfortable. I’d rather spare her that experience.”

There’s a fleeting beat of silence.

You don’t even see the Archduke move.

Louis is jerked to the side harshly, stumbling away from you. In the same second, Sid is shoved to the side as well, hard enough to make even him lose his balance for a moment. Your insides lurch, and you go to move to Louis since he was pushed harder. Lucia launches herself from your finger with a sharp chirp.

Before you can, the Archduke is stood before you, towering over your smaller frame. His hand snaps out, fingers gripping your upper arm with such force that a gasp of pain rushes out of you. You yank yourself back, now feeling real fear and threat from him. He forces you back toward him harshly, fingers digging into your arm.

His other hand shoots up to your face. His fingers restrain your head, locked around your chin, bony and thin and almost skeletal. Nausea rolls through you, something deep inside you recoiling and cringing in response to the sudden contact. It’s a sensation you’ve never had before; it’s unsettling, unnerving and rattles you entirely, causing you serious discomfort and almost panic.

You’ve never felt so repulsed by being touched. It’s revolting.

“Father, stop! Let her go!” Louis all but roars, lurching toward the Archduke. Sid does the same.

The Archduke just leans in closer to you, piercing blue eyes almost electric with fascination and curiosity. When the boys are about to reach him, he speaks lowly, but in a voice so calm it’s terrifying. You try to hide the terror building in you.

“Both of you, touch me, and you’ll all regret it. Her included.”

It’s only at the last words that they both grind to a halt, albeit very reluctantly. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, and you glare up at him, refusing to let him see how intimidated you are. Truth be told, you could probably fight him and win if you put in some effort because of your training.

But… doing so would be suicide in so many ways. You can’t afford to even attempt it.

Seeing your hostile stare, he hums, musing, “Your eyes are intriguing. Such fire, yet so controlled. It’s fascinating. You must be the person who’s built Louis a spine.”

Your fingers have been gripping his wrists up until now, ready to tear him off if he does anything dangerous. They tighten, exerting a considerable amount of pressure on his bones, and your words come out less than friendly. “Louis has always had a spine. He’s always been strong and brave. If you knew him in the slightest, you would never doubt that.”

For a long few heartbeats, he simply stares down at you, looking almost shocked.

And then, he bursts out into howls of laughter, bellowing, “What a fiery spirit! Such strength, and no hesitation in the slightest! That’s leaps and bounds more than I can say Louis has.”

He tilts your head up, shifting you closer using his grip on your arm. Your spiteful gaze flares brighter, body urging you to kick the shit out of him for hurting you all, but this only seems to make him more interested. He grins, and you swear, it’s like something you’d see in a horror film. “Ah, but there’s fear in there, as well. You’re skilled in obscuring it, but you can’t hide it from me. I am an aristocrat, my dear; seeing through the masks and lies of others is practically a hobby for us.”

Your jaw clenches. You almost hiss your next retort. “If that’s true, you’ve lost the true meaning of aristocracy. You’re supposed to protect and care for the people in your duchies, and speak for those same people to the higher-ups they can’t reach. If their emotions and lives are just a game to you, that’s not aristocracy. That’s sadism, and it’s disgusting.”

You resist against his hold, whilst simultaneously forcing your voice to calm, to prevent yourself from being targeted even more. “I would like you to let me go, please. You’re hurting me, and trust me when I say it’s illegal to just grab someone like this.  _Regardless_  of who you are.”

The grin doesn’t fade. If anything, the light in his eyes just scorches brighter, twisted amusement glittering like knives in the electric blue of his hues. He straightens up, seeming almost satisfied. “I remember you. I remember exactly who you are, now, ___ ____. I met you several years ago – you’re the one Louis has been friends with for years. You’re that girl, from the ICAC, the one with the father who was taken down by the Wagner Conglomerate.”

Your resolve falters, pain aching through your heart. Memories flash through your mind at his words, and your throat thickens just slightly. That glitter intensifies; he can see that he’s struck a nerve. “Yes, that’s who you are. It’s unfortunate, that he was taken so young. Truly, a loss.”

_Every single one of those words is a lie._

Your patience snaps. You won’t sit here and listen to this.

Exerting enough force to cause an impact, you release his wrists, sending your hands flying into them. They’re dragged away from you, and you back up immediately, putting some distance between you both. “Yeah, it was.”

Sid has moved to stand with Louis by this point, and both reach out, motioning urgently for you to come to them. You keep your eyes on the Archduke as you go to them, heart flooding with relief at being away from him and back with the boys. As soon as you’re in range of them, both take your hands and arms, bringing you into the safe cradle of their own. You send the Archduke a heated glare, as does Sid, while Louis snaps,

“We’re leaving. I’ll sort out my things later.” Without waiting for a response from him, Louis nudges you and Sid out of the room, and the three of you make your way through the corridor at a near-run.

You try to ignore the sadistic laughter you hear behind you.

You grip Louis and Sid’s hands hard while you all sprint downstairs. Several servants are milling about in the foyer now, and they bow or curtsey as you go past, but you can’t bring yourself to even look at them. You feel so sick, shaken and disgusted, and yet you don’t understand why. Yes, he grabbed you without you wanting to be touched, but he didn’t exactly do anything which would warrant such a strong reaction from your body.

And yet, here you are, about ready to break down from maybe a minute of him touching you.

Once you’re outside, Sid lets go of you, sprinting to his side of the car. You bolt to the passenger seat, while Louis darts to middle row again. Sid wastes no time in pulling out of the drive and away from the house, all but speeding off down the road.

Now that you’re away from the twisted man, your composure crumbles.

You collapse back against the seat, feeling your body starting to shake. Baffled by this, you stare down at your hand, watching it tremble where it rests on your thigh. You can hear Sid muttering and cussing under his breath, and Louis responding in a voice that sounds nearly as shaken as you feel, but you’re not listening to them. Even when they start speaking to you, you don’t hear them.

_For a long time, I’ve only felt comfortable touching the guys. I’d be able to hug the odd person in school or pat them on the arm, or something like that, without a problem. Anything else, though, always felt to some degree uncomfortable; even when ICAC agents would touch my back to get my attention, I’d cringe, just a little bit. It’s like that’s still happening now, but much worse. Maybe it’s because I’m so happy with the guys touching me now, I can’t stand anyone else doing it._

You lean forward, trying to fight of the sickness still plaguing you. You rest your head against your knees, breathing slowly, attempting to calm your body.

“Fuck. ___, hey. Princess, you’re okay, you hear me? He’s gone.”

“___, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

_How am I supposed to explain this to them? It’s such a weird thing, to react this badly just to someone touching me._

“I’m fine. I’m okay, just… just give me a minute.” They go silent at your soft reply, before Sid swears again, louder this time. The car comes to a stop, and his hand comes down on your back, rubbing against the ridges of your spine gently.

“We’re nearly at the dorms. Just hold it together, Princess. Okay?”

You nod mutely. His hand disappears.

True to his word, mere minutes later, the car rolls up into the dorm car park. Still feeling shaken up and ill, you exhale slowly, then force yourself up and out of the car. You’ve come to realise by this point that your jaw and arm are hurting, a lot, and that he was actually gripping you really damn hard. Wincing at the throbbing in your face, you close the door, then wait as Sid and Louis rush over to you. You all hurry over to the dorm together, going inside. The two of them guide you up to Albert, Byron and Nico’s dorm room, where you stop, knocking.

In seconds, the door opens, revealing Nico. He beams. “Hi, guys! I thought we were meeting at ___’s house-”

Sid interrupts him, stating bluntly, “Change of plan, short stack. Let us in.”

Nico’s eyes expand with surprise, but he does as Sid says, moving so that you can all go in. Sid nudges you inside, where you see Albert and Byron sorting through the last of their possessions, like chargers and their laptops. They glance over, both seeming equally surprised but very much pleased by your presence. “___,” Byron murmurs. “Are you alright?”

_Not in the slightest._

You don’t say that, of course. You just nod.

Sid tugs you over to the couch, while Louis takes Nico’s arm and brings him over to Albert and Byron. He starts to talk lowly, probably telling them about what just happened. Sid sits you down, then crouches in front of you while you close your eyes.

“___, are you hurt? Talk to me. I can’t do jack shit if you sit there not saying a word. Tell me where you’re hurting.” He mutters, placing his hands on your thighs, thumbs rubbing the flesh soothingly. He’s so warm, and it feels so nice, such a contrast to the sickening contact from the Archduke.

_Speak. Tell him what’s going on._

“I don’t know.” It’s the first thing your mind formulates, honest and simple. “My jaw hurts, and my arm, but it’s fine. I’m just… I don’t know. I feel really shaken up and I don’t know why. I’ve never felt this bad from someone touching me like that. It’s stupid; he barely even did anything-”

“Princess, do me a favour and shut up for a sec. I know I just told you to talk, but that’s ridiculous. He just grabbed you without permission.” You squeeze your eyes shut harder, feeling a wave of sickness wrack through you. You shudder, curling your arms around your stomach tightly. Sid’s thumbs still against your thighs. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Your eyes fly open, heart racing with panic at the thought of them stopping touching you. Your hands shoot down to his, where you grip his wrists hard. Gaze meeting his, you shake your head vigorously, gushing out, “No, no! Not at all; it’s just when other people do it. It’s always been like that- I- I’ve never felt really comfortable with other people touching me, but I want-”

Your eyes drop to his chest. “I want you guys to touch me. It… I love it when you do. It’s just other people. Usually I just feel uncomfortable with them, but now I feel sick. I’m shaking, but I don’t know why.”

He listens to all of this, expression absolutely serious. There’s a series of shouts and exclamations from Albert, Byron and Nico, and you’re guessing Louis just told them about Archduke Howard grabbing you.

Now, Sid nods, moving his hands to brush your hair away from your face, then tilt it up and back. He inspects it for a long few heartbeats. You hear him exhale slowly, before swallowing hard. He brings your face back down, asking quietly,

“Can you take your coat off for a sec?” You nod, unbuttoning it and shrugging it off without questioning him. He nudges the short sleeve of your top out of the way on the arm that was grabbed.

It only takes a fraction of a second before he growls, low in his throat, truly enraged, aggressive and disgusted.

You don’t particularly want to see what’s making him form a sound like that and keep your eyes downcast, feeling his thumb press against the flesh cautiously. You wince again, muscle there throbbing in protest.

Something in Sid’s face, in his eyes, contorts for just a second. It’s so fleeting, you almost miss it when glancing at him, but it breaks your heart to see it.

“Come here, love.” He breathes out.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you all but throw yourself into his arms, clinging to his neck. He embraces your waist with one arm, while the other hand strokes your hair, repetitive and soothing. Your face buries itself in his shoulder, and he sighs, tugging you off the couch and onto his lap. You end up sat with your legs on either side of him, him now sat cross-legged under you, while he continues to stroke your hair.

After a few minutes, the others now murmuring tensely to one another, he pulls back, cupping your face and tilting it back again. He moves so that the others can only see your back, and can’t work out what he’s doing, since he’s mostly hidden by you. His voice drops when he whispers, tone gravelly and husky, but it’s not with passion or suggestiveness; instead, it’s what sounds like pain and frustration. “I’ll make it go away, Princess. I’ll make you forget he ever touched you.”

His lips brush against your jaw on your right side, barely even making contact. It’s a feather-light kiss, airy and so soft, it’s something you only usually experience with the others. That fact in itself makes your heart clench again; this has hurt him, badly, enough that he feels like he needs to handle you like you’re made of glass. He makes a trail along your jaw, to chin, and you shiver against him unintentionally, the ticklish sensation overtaking your thoughts and mind.

You find yourself forgetting about what happened just like he said you would, too focused on him painting the other side of your jaw with those same little kisses to think about the discomfort you went through.

When he’s kissed along to the edge of your jaw, he lowers his head, lips finding your upper arm. Your eyes flutter closed, expression giving way to very subtle pleasure. He kisses the tender skin delicately, caring and loving, so gentle. It’s so different to his usual self, but it’s not a bad thing. Right now, you need exactly that.

He disengages soon after, though, when the others finish talking and make their way over. He calmly removes his lips from your skin, instead shifting you around to be sat in his lap sideward on, flushed face shielded from the others by his throat.

“Is she alright?” You hear Albert ask. Heart thumping away in your chest, you fiddle with your fingers, letting Sid answer for you.

“Yeah. She’s shaken, but she’s okay.” There’s movement next to you, and then you feel familiar, nimble fingers curling around your upper arm, coaxing it upward. You lift it for them, bringing your hand up as well, to let them inspect it; you don’t doubt that there’s a mark of some sort, considering Sid’s reaction.

There’s several sharp intakes of breath and a quiet growl, and then more fingers are tracing over the sore flesh where the Archduke grabbed you, each just slightly different and identifiable.

Very cautious, but firm. Albert.

Gentle, confident. Byron.

Feather-light, impossibly delicate. Louis.

Similar to Byron, but lighter in pressure. Nico.

“How  _dare_  he touch her, no less harm her.” Albert seethes, anger evident in his tone. You hear Byron make a sound of agreement.

“He will not do it again, nor will he come anywhere  _close_  to her again, that I can say for certain.” He pauses. “You said he had hold of her face as well?”

Sid stiffens just slightly, but he nods, head moving just a little above your own. “Yeah.”

Byron’s fingers find your chin, and he gently tries to move your own head to face him. “___, can we see your face? We want to see if there’s any evident injury.”

You almost feel ashamed, somehow, and don’t want to look at them. You know you need to, though, so you let him turn your face, eyes opening.

He, Albert, Louis and Nico are all crouched around you, staring straight at your face. Trying to ignore the pressure of them all watching you so closely, you let Byron nudge your face up, showing him your jaw. Albert growls again. “He must realise that he’s committed assault, surely. He’s outright injured her, enough to leave marks.”

“Of course he does. He just sees himself as untouchable because he’s a noble.” Nico responds, sounding very much displeased. There’s the sound of someone’s phone taking a picture, and then another, before Nico sighs. “Al, calm down. I’m taking pictures so there’s evidence of it. If he causes more trouble in the future, we need everything possible to use against him.”

That’s a good point, and good thinking on Nico’s part. You send him a slightly weak smile, head still tilted upward. “Thank you.”

It looks like he tries to smile back, but it collapses before it forms properly. He bites his lip, seeming to be holding back tears. “Princess…”

You don’t want to cry. You don’t want him to cry. You don’t want any of them to cry.

_Byron wanted me to go to mum today happy, not upset or afraid. I need to bounce back and get through this, so that they can as well._

Feeling your resolve and composure harden slightly, you exhale slowly, gathering your thoughts and strength. Ridding your mind of the last half an hour as much as humanly possible, you push yourself to your feet and off Sid’s lap. The others rise with you, Byron reaching out to hold your uninjured arm and steady you. You give him a stronger smile, forcing yourself to settle and calm for their sake.

Your eyes drop to your arm. The strength almost evaporates there and then.

There’s a mark around your arm, a now-fading handprint, the flesh discoloured where it touches.

You shake your head, casting the swell of unease pooling in your stomach away. You focus on your plans for the day, announcing,

“Today’s a good day, right? For now, let’s just forget about it. He’s not worth ruining the day for. The others should be nearly done soon, so let’s get ready, then meet them like we planned. We’ve still got to tell my mum about us.” Your eyes drift to Byron, locking with his. “I don’t plan on doing this upset or afraid. I want to go happy, and to tell her happy. Can we do that, even if it’s just for today?”

Sid looks taken aback at first, but then a wide, proud smile graces his lips. Byron smiles softly, gaze tender and gentle. Nico manages a proper smile now, although his eyes remain slightly glossy. Albert doesn’t smile, but he sighs quietly, then nods.

Louis stares at the ground, pain written all over his face. That normally contented cerulean is now fractured, some of the ice he used to view the world through returning.

You don’t hesitate. You step up before him, sliding your hands around his face. You brush your thumbs over the skin of his cheekbones, uttering, “Louis, if you try to blame yourself for this, or feel guilty in the slightest, it’s going to upset me more and more, and it’ll make it harder for me to forget everything that happened. I want you to, for me, forget as well, and to smile for me. I want you to be happy, because I’m selfish and want us all to be. If he tries anything again, we won’t take any chances next time, but for now, let’s just enjoy the day. Okay? Please?”

His expression crumbles. He reaches up to take your hands, kissing each palm, eyes now filled with tears. He nods, though, and blinks them away, before he whispers, “Okay.”

You know he’s not lying. It’ll just take time for him to shake it off, and that’s fine. You’ve got time.

You all stay in the dorm room for another fifteen minutes while the Steiners sort their things out, and then you go out with the three to their car. It’s decided that it’ll just be you four in there, and that Sid will then take himself and the others, so that he and Louis can explain what happened both now and while they’re driving; if you’re with them while they talk about it, the boys are likely to fuss over you and try to all see for themselves that you’re okay.

So, you head to the car with Albert, Byron and Nico, with Sid and Louis having gone to fetch Alyn, Leo, Giles and Robert from their dorms. When you reach the car, you go to sit in the middle row of seats, as does Nico. Albert gets in as the passenger, while Byron is the driver, as always. When you’re in, Nico tugs you into the centre seat, giving you a mischievous wink. He puts his seatbelt on, all of you doing the same.

And then, he coils his arms around your waist, nudging his legs under yours so you’re half on his lap. You blush just a bit, surprised and slightly confused by the contact when you’re not all in a safe place, but he just grins and sings out, “The windows are tinted, Princess. We’re fine.”

You glance at Byron and Albert, raising an eyebrow. Byron smiles slightly. “Do you blame him, Princess, after the day’s events so far?”

Albert huffs. “Although, he could restrain himself until we’re not in a car, in a public place.”

You don’t blame Nico at all. Of course not.

So, you snuggle into him, resting your hand over his heart and losing yourself in his scent, his warmth, his playful but gentle touch. You let your face drop into the hollow of his throat, and he hums into your hair, lips settled against the crown of your head.

In maybe ten minutes, the others emerge from the dorm. They walk to the car park, Sid’s car already parked next to Byron’s, and both Alyn and Leo jog over to Byron’s car. When they tap on the window of the middle row of seats, Nico rolls it down, letting the Crawfords peek in and see you, still perched on Nico’s lap.

“We know, we know, no fuss.” Leo waves a hand at Albert dismissively, then leans through the window, reaching out to stroke your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You nod, catching his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Yep, I’m fine. I just want to forget about it.”

He returns the nod, giving you a heart-breaking smile. “Good. We can do just that.” He stretches in a bit more, planting a soft kiss against your forehead, before he slides back out. “See you guys at ___’s!”

With that, he hops into Sid’s car. Alyn looks much less calm about this. When he leans in, he tucks his fingers under your chin, studying your jaw. His scarlet eyes narrow, but he just breathes out slowly, then cups your face like Leo did. Kissing your forehead, he withdraws, then follows Leo in getting into Sid’s car. Nico closes the window, and Byron turns the car on as the others get themselves in Sid’s. He calls the latter through the Bluetooth again.

“Ready?” He asks, backing up and turning. Sid does the same, staying in front of Byron.

“Yeah. I’ll go first.” Byron nods, hanging up. As both of them start to drive toward your house, your stomach does a little flip from nerves, and you burrow into Nico’s chest more as a result. Byron notices this, glancing up at you through the rear-view mirror. “___, are you alright?”

You nod, humming and letting Nico slide his fingers through yours. He plays with them, nuzzling his face into your hair, while you respond, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a bit nervous again.”

Nico gives you a squeeze, reassuring you, “It’ll be fine, we promise. We’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“As much as I hate to say it, he’s right.” Albert grumbles. His eyes flick up to yours through the mirror. “As we have said several times, you need to simply trust us. Everything will be fine.”

Such encouragement from Albert helps to soothe you, and you find yourself feeling more confident. You smile softly. “I trust you all. Thank you.”

The drive is otherwise mostly silent, apart from odd bit of conversation here and there. Twenty minutes later, you arrive at the road connected to the path up to your house. A sense of security, familiarity and comfort washes over you at being home, and joy erupts in you at the thought of seeing your mum. Beaming at your improved mood, you squeeze Nico’s hands when Byron stops the car, then pop the door open and jump out.

Nico slides out after you, catching your hand once more. When you give him an inquisitive look, he winks, chirping, “It’s a secret. You said you’d trust us, right?”

Byron and Albert have gotten out now, and both of them come to stand beside you. “Um… yeah, I did. Why?”

Nico lifts your hand up, offering it to Byron. He takes it very gently, entwining his fingers with yours, then looks to Albert. The latter blushes and diverts his eyes, but he reaches down, very timidly slipping his fingers through those of your free hand. You freeze, amazed by the bold move. Byron squeezes the hand he’s holding. “Trust us.”

Saying nothing more, they take you up the path, either side obscured by trees and vegetation. The other boys are already waiting there, and share smiles, grins or eye rolls at the sight of you four. You let them walk you up to the front door, where Leo is stood. He smirks before knocking on it, looking far too smug.

_This is it. This is one of the most important moments of my life so far._

Albert and Byron squeeze your hands once more. You squeeze them back, feeling a swell of confidence, knowing they’re there with you.

The door opens. Your heart soars at the sight of your mum, stood there with a barely-suppressed grin.

She takes perhaps a fraction of a second to study you, then Albert, then Byron, before finally looking at your hands.

All hell breaks loose.

She shrieks, suddenly bouncing up and down, waving her arms about in obvious delight. You’re startled, wracked with complete confusion and also healthy concern, at the way she seems giddy about you stood there holding the boys’ hands. You’re additionally rather worried about how much her screams are fluctuating from that of an infant to those of Satan on a hot day.

When she starts to speak – although “speak” is used very, very loosely – it just baffles you more.

“I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! Yes! Goddamn it, yes! I am so good! Told you! I told every single one of you! Ha!”

_Hang on._

The gears start to turn in your mind.

_The book, the one that was about polyamory, that she gave me._

Your mouth drops open.

_Her ‘advice’ on the phone about maybe even being in love with them, that led to this._

Everything comes together.

“You- you- you… just-” You whirl, rounding on Byron and all but screaming, “She  _knew_? She  _knew_  about this? The plan? And you  _knew_  that  _she knew?_ ”

Byron grins openly. “Yes.”

You whip around to Albert. “How long did she know about it for?”

He nudges his glasses up with a finger, still blushing faintly. “She was the one who made the plan, roughly a year and four months ago.”

_Wha-_

You stare at her like she’s a ten-tailed monster.

She’s in hysterics by this point, howling with delighted, gleeful laughter, hunched over her middle and wailing with the force of them. Your eyes roll to Byron once more. “When did she find out about you guys having feelings?”

He’s still grinning. You love the sight more than life itself, but by God, right now you just want to smack it off his beautiful face. “She realised that Sid was in love with you roundabouts when Leo realised his own feelings, and in a matter of perhaps a week, she’d worked out the latter as well as Giles. The rest, she clicked on to them as they happened, if not before some of us even knew. She knew about me and Nico before we’d even come to understand our emotions ourselves.”

_My mum knew everything. This whole time, I was worrying, fearing she’d disown me or hate me or never want to look at me again, and she knew. She knew more than I did, years before I even started to suspect anything._

You can’t believe it.

You drop to your knees, genuinely shocked to the core by the thought.

The boys shout in alarm, wincing when your knees hit the floor, but your mum doesn’t seem to notice around her howling. Albert and Byron drop down beside you, seeming concerned and now somewhat worried about you going into medical shock. They peer at your face, trying to coax a response out of you. You grip their hands almost painfully tightly, staring at the floor blankly.

“You all… you all knew…  _everyone_  other than me knew.” Your weak mumble manages to get a smile from Byron, and a sigh from Albert. Your mum gets a hold of herself after a few solid minutes, barely able to breathe let alone speak, when she kneels before you and cups your face in her hands.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It wasn’t deliberate, I promise; it just ended up happening and we worked with what we had.” She presses her forehead against yours, feeling you sigh heavily and lean against her. “But the point is, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me at all; the boys have told me how happy you are, and I can see it in you in general. Just tell me, so I can know for certain.”

You lift your head, meeting her gaze. She grins. “Are you happy? Do you love them, and want to be with them like this?”

The answer comes without hesitation.

“I’m really happy. I’ve never  _been_  this happy before; being with them is everything I want. I’m certain. As long as they want to be with me, I want to be with them. They’re everything to me… they’re my whole world. I love them so much.”

The boys, for once, all smile, all beaming and grinning away at your words, together.

Your mum’s eyes glaze over with tears, and she nods fiercely, kissing your forehead. “I believe it. I believe it with all I am.” She kisses your nose, then pulls back, stroking your hair away from your face. “Then, I have no problems with it. I support you entirely, sweetheart. I love you so, so much, and I’m so proud of you, for being brave and strong and following your heart.”

Now, it’s your turn to cry.

The joyous relief that sweeps through you is immense; it slams into you like a tsunami, bringing tears flooding into your eyes in an instant. Your mum laughs again, breathless, and hugs you so tightly you can barely breathe. Albert and Byron have let your hands go by this point, and you grip her just as hard, cry-laughing into her shoulder.

Once your tears dry and all of your fear, worry and nervousness dissipates, you heave in a breath, drawing away from her. “Oh my God,” You gasp out, trembling with emotion, voice shaking just as much. “I’m so happy.”

Albert and Byron stand now, each offering a hand to you. You take them both, hauling yourself up. It’s at this point that your mum does the same, grinning like mad, before she winks conspiratorially, backing up a bit. “I have another surprise for you.” She turns inside the house, calling, “You can come out now!”

_Who else is here?_

The living room door opens. Lucian, your ICAC mentor and the man who’s saved your life more times than you can count, saunters into the corridor.

He’s in his standard black shirt, trousers and combat boots, arms crossed and expression serious as per usual. Eyes a chocolate brown, and hair a similar shade, cut short and styled upward, he doesn’t look his age at all, although his greying roots do indicate it just slightly.

You recoil back, shocked by his presence. Usually if he’s here, something’s wrong.

“Wha-” You choke out. “Lucian? What are you doing here? Has something happened?”

He rolls his eyes, but he smirks, strolling through the hallway and to the door almost lazily. He comes to a gradual halt before you, staring down at you. “Can’t I greet my agent, considering that she’s been in Stein for a month and a half, and I’ve had to listen to the moaning of all the other agents who’ve missed her every single day that she was away?”

Despite your shock, you find yourself starting to grin. “Oh?”

He shakes his head, but he ends up grinning as well. It’s such a rare expression for him, but it’s beautiful. “Yeah. ‘Where’s ___?’, ‘When’s ___ coming back?’, ‘I miss ___!’, ‘Lucian, call ___ for us so we can talk to her!’. Honestly, it was such a pain in the arse to have it down my ear all the time.”

Your grin turns smug. “That’s all that harsh training coming back to bite you. Sucks for you.”

His grin shifts into a smirk. “Bad idea, getting cocky with me.”

With that, he plonks his hand on your head, ruffling your hair almost aggressively. You squeak, trying to get him off, but he grabs your wrist to prevent you from escaping. You whack at his chest with your free hand, exclaiming, “Lucian, stop! You’re getting my hair all tatty!”

He just snorts. “Oops.”

He releases your head after a moment, but he keeps hold of your wrist. When you’ve fixed your hair with your other hand, his expression, eyes and smile, the lot, all soften. He gives you a light tug, bringing you into a gentle, friendly hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You still, surprised at first, before you relax and hug his middle back just as gently. He props his chin up on your head, murmuring, “Welcome back, ___.”

You smile into his chest, enjoying the feeling of safety that being in his arms gives you. “Thanks, Lucian.”

He lets go after a second, stepping back. You do the same, sighing out, “Well, this day is just getting weirder and weirder. I’m going to get my stuff and bring it in while I try to process everything, and simultaneously not combust.”

Your mum and Lucian both nod, but the latter adds, “Alright, but we need to speak to you about something else when you’re done.”

Curious, simultaneously worried once more, and yet somehow feeling ready to take on World War Three right now, you simply nod. “Right.”

You walk back down the path and go to Sid’s car, opening the boot. There, you pull your suitcase out with the help of Leo, collecting your other bag as well. He insists on taking the suitcase, and you let him, knowing he won’t settle for anything else. You go inside with him, heading through the house and upstairs, then to your room.

Inside, it’s just how you left it, and a swell of warm comfort envelops you at being back home. You chuck your bag on the bed, then shrug your other one off and do the same with it. Leo leaves your suitcase next to your bed, approaching you with an adoring, soft gaze, lips turned up in a graceful smile. Your heart sings, and your expression mirrors his. You lift your arms, inviting him into them.

He takes the opportunity without hesitation. He scoops you up, cradling you against his chest like the most precious thing in the world. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting him spin in a majestic little circle with you, face buried in your throat. You feel calm, safe, secure and loved, embracing him, feeling his warmth all around you.

“Hey, Princess.” He whispers, coming to a gradual halt, although you remain off the ground since he’s so tall. He supports you there, and you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, fingers threading through his hair.

“Hey, Prince.” Your reply is teasing, and you feel his grin against your neck, giving you pleasant little shudders down your spine. He pulls you closer, your stomach flush against his, before he exhales and brushes his fingers over your ribs.

“Didn’t we tell you everything was going to be fine?” He asks jokingly. You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling.

“Yeah, you did. But…” You pull back, finding it increasingly painful for your arm, holding yourself up and off the floor.

He seems to realise this, as he reaches down with one hand, hitching your thigh over his hip. You swing the other one up, immediately finding relief in your arm being released of pressure. He locks his hands around each of your thighs, just behind your knees. “As far as I knew, there was a chance she could completely reject this, and me. I didn’t know there wasn’t a chance of that. So, do you blame me for being scared?”

He stares up at you, shaking his head. “No. You trusted us, like we asked you to, even though you had that fear. And for that, I’m grateful. Thanks.”

You rest your forehead against his, murmuring, “You’re welcome.”

He peers at your jaw, smile fading. “Louis said the Archduke grabbed your face. I know you want to forget about it, but are you really okay? He said your arm was hurt, too.”

Discomfort briefly makes itself known in you again, but you shake it off, nodding. “I’m fine. There was a mark on my arm earlier, a handprint, but it might have faded by now. It’s sore, but I’m okay. If I don’t think about it, it won’t hurt me.”

His face falls a little at the last sentence. He sets you down on your feet, fingers trailing up your sides to your arms. He thumbs the material of your coat absently, asking, “Can you show me? Please? I just… want to see for myself.”

You understand. Sid was the same.

You nod, unbuttoning your coat and taking it off. You chuck it onto the bed, pulling your sleeve up and studying your arm as he does the same.

You stiffen. Your breathing pauses for a brief moment.

The handprint is gone, but now, there’s a ring of bruising, vaguely in the same shape as one. It’s not too dark yet, but some spots are, indicating that it’s going to get worse. You didn’t think it would bruise; obviously, the Archduke must have held you a damn sight tighter than what you realised.

“He…” Leo almost chokes out, expression mortified and simultaneously enraged. “He did this?”

Your heart aches again. Your eyes drop to the floor. “Yeah.”

He swallows thickly, throat working hard, like he’s in danger of crying. He cradles your arm in his hands, lowering his head and face to it, before dusting a very light kiss against the bruised flesh. He straightens up, remorse clear in his eyes. “We should have gone with you.”

You shake your head swiftly, raising your hands to hold the sides of his face. “No. We all thought he was away, Leo. None of us could have known, and it’s no one’s fault.”

You move away from him to set your suitcase down flat, then open it, rummaging through for your lighter hoodie, one that fits your form nicely to preserve heat but isn’t as heavy as your coat. You throw it on, hiding your arm, before retrieving the presents you bought for your mum and Lucian in Stein. Satisfied, you return to Leo and take his hand. “Come on. Let’s go down, okay?”

He seems reluctant, but he doesn’t protest, instead tightening his grip on your hand. You take him downstairs, where the boys are all waiting patiently in the hallway near the front door. They stop talking when you both come down, and your heart flutters when they don’t – at least outwardly – react to you holding Leo’s hand. You give them a smile, waving the presents in the air. Robert grins.

“They’re in the living room, waiting for you.” He informs you. Your smile turns grateful, and you nod.

“Okay, thank you.” You let go of Leo, stepping up to the door and listening, since usually it’s left open, and when it’s closed, it’s usually for a reason. Seeing the boys’ unanimous confusion, you chuckle quietly. “She usually closes the door if she doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

You raise your hand, going to knock, when you hear her speak.

“… just don’t know about telling her, Lucian. You saw her before. She’s had a lot to deal with today.”

“We decided that it would be today. It’s better for her to find out everything at once; feeding her the odd spoonful of information at a time won’t get her anywhere and will just frustrate her.”

“Yeah, but it’s such a big thing. That you and I, of all people, are together, especially considering how close you were to her dad.”

_Wait… what?_

Your mind grinds to a sudden halt, thoughts emptying like sand through a sieve.

 “And to think, we’d have to tell her it’s been going on for nearly two years… we lied to her, Lucian. We’ve been lying to her for two years straight. That’s going to hurt her, and I don’t want to do that, not on a happy day like this.”

“That’s all good and well, but the longer we wait, the more she’ll suffer. If it gets to three years, she’ll hurt a lot more than if we tell her now.”

_My mum, and Lucian, together. The two people closest to my dad, in a relationship. Lucian’s been my mentor for years, and now, he’s technically my dad._

Something about it feels profoundly wrong, but at the same time, it almost makes you happy. Lucian has been like a dad to you for years now, since your own dad died, with the way he’s protected and supported you. You feel safe with him, not as much as you did with your dad, but way more than with anyone other than your mum and the boys. The thought of him being your new dad, not replacing your real one but rather just taking on his role now that he’s gone… it doesn’t seem too bad.

Actually, it’s sort of nice. You’d have a dad again. You haven’t had one for two years.

“But what about your boys? That will be a massive change for her, Lucian – she’s been an only child her whole life. To suddenly have two step-brothers, her age, that will almost definitely be coming to live here soon and go to the same college as her… a lot of kids would really struggle with dealing with that. Many don’t want new people in their house, their personal space. I mean, she’s got college to deal with as well. She doesn’t need this stress.”

“But it might not be stress for her. You know what she’s like. Having people around her she can assist and focus on helps her to deal with her own stress. She’s naturally someone who desires helping people, so I don’t think she’d be too badly affected by it in that respect.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then a quiet laugh from Lucian. “Plus, she’ll be able to experience a wedding, if all goes to plan. She’s never been to one before. She’s said a few times that she wants to see one herself, since all she’s been to has been funerals, and that would be quite depressing for a lot of people.”

“Ssh! What if she hears you?”

“She’s upstairs with Leo, don’t worry. She’s not listening.”

You almost burst into confused, giddy, ecstatic laughter.

You’re going to have a dad, and it’s the one person you would want to be your dad. You’re going to get to experience having siblings for the first time, and you’re going to be able to go to a wedding.

This is by far the best day ever.

The boys have been watching your expression change as you’ve listened, wondering why you’re eavesdropping so blatantly.

Now, though, they watch in shock as you all but kick the door open, bouncing inside with a beaming smile. Your mum and Lucian are stood by the TV, very, very close to one another, and jump away upon seeing you. Your mum exclaims in surprise, but you just skip over, shoving their presents at them. They take them, not seeming to know how to react.

So, you take away their need to speak, chirping, “I’m fine with you being together, I understand why you’ve not told me about it, I don’t mind having step-brothers, I’m fine with them living here, and congratulations – although I’m just assuming you’ve already had it – on your engagement. I have no objections; you accepted me as I am, so I’m obviously going to accept both of as you are.”

Knowing you’re going to get an earful if you stay, you dance back, then wave and sing out, “I’ll give you some time to process, like I did before. I’m going to go for a walk. See you in a bit!”

And with that, you sprint out of the room, swing yourself around the doorframe, and bolt through the corridor past the boys. They all shout after you, confused and to some degree concerned, but you just swipe your keys from the side and unlock the door, lashing it open.

“I’m going for a walk! I’ll be fine, just bear with me! I need thinking time!” You call over your shoulder, sprinting outside and making a beeline for the wooded area connected to your house.

You hear the boys scrambling after you, running after your swiftly disappearing form. You carry on running, carrying on until you’re breathless, panting, and deep in the woods before coming to a stop. You collapse down onto a fallen tree, draping yourself on top of it and gasping for oxygen.

Seconds later, the boys thunder over, footsteps pounding against the vegetation. They all pant just like you from the sudden sprint, the likes of Leo and Louis all but ready to keel over and die from the exertion.

“___,” Giles rasps out, leaning against a tree heavily. “What on earth was that about? What happened?”

You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head. You stare up at the trees for a moment before you close your eyes. Your heart may as well be a bird; it’s soaring, free and flying high inside you from absolute joy. “Sit down, boys. I’ve got three plot twists that I just heard by accident.”

You explain to them everything you just overheard, running through it as your mum and Lucian did. For the most part, they’re shocked.

And then there’s Leo and Sid. Of course, it’s those two.

“Ha!” Leo cries victoriously, throwing his fists in the air. “Called it! Called it!” He points at Sid, grinning smugly. “Ten bells, please.”

“Fuck.” Sid cusses, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a ten bell note. He slaps it into Leo’s waiting palm with painful force, muttering swears under his breath. Leo takes it, leaning back against a tree while he marvels at it.

“Hang on,” You say, blinking. “You were betting on them getting together?”

He sends you a wink. “Sorry, Princess, but it was just too obvious. I’ve known for a long time.”

_I really am clueless with love._

“Right.” You sigh out, feeling Byron massaging your knees and shins, resting atop his thighs. Your head is in Robert’s lap, his fingers carding through your hair gently. “Well, it’s probably not much of a surprise to you that they’re getting married, then.” Leo shakes his head. You huff. “Last thing; Lucian’s got two sons, and they’re coming to live with us soon.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, the same question is asked by almost all of them, all at once.

“How old are they?”

You smirk. This is going to eat at them. “My age, apparently.”

There’s a collection of groans. Sid rolls his eyes. “Well, fuck me.”

Giles rubs his forehead, leaning against a tree again. “While I disagree with the wording you just used, I concur.”

“So, you’ll be living with two boys, our age, all the time?” Nico asks, expression mildly uncomfortable. You nod, giving him a hopefully encouraging smile, but he just lowers his eyes to the floor and starts to chew on his thumb nervously, a habit of his. You tilt your head, taking in their unanimously displeased body language.

“Guys, they’re my step-brothers, or at least they will be. Unless they’re planning on breaking a pretty basic social rule and attempting something that’s considered a taboo, they’re not going to be a problem. They’ll be family. You all have nothing to worry about.” You pause for a moment, expression taking on a more tender, loving look, voice and eyes doing the same. “You all know that.”

They seem slightly reassured by that, but not a lot. Leo rubs the back of his head. “I don’t know, ___. You’ve seen  _Brothers Conflict_ , right?”

Your expression flattens. “Not going to happen.”

Byron shakes his head, intercepting, “This is not something to discuss now, nor here. You need to speak to your mother and Lucian about this, considering that you just eavesdropped on this rather important conversation, then ran away.”

You groan, turning your head to hide it by burying it in Robert’s shirt, against his stomach. He chuckles, cradling it and stroking your face gently. “I don’t want to. It’s going to take so much effort.”

“Once it’s done, it’s out of the way, ___. Come. We’ll come in with you, if your mother and Lucian will allow it.” Robert consoles you. A rush of supported warmth rolls through you at his words, and you know he’s right.

Sighing, you heave yourself up. You stretch, crack your back, then do the same with your knuckles, muttering, “Trust me, if she says you’re not allowed to stay and listen after everything she’s been hiding from me, she can consider the wedding off.”

Not a single one of them fights you on that.

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	3. Part III | Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**1 st September 2016 | College Year 2**

 A week and a half later, life has changed for you considerably.

Several things have happened since you talked with your mum and Lucian about everything they’ve kept from you for the past two years.

First, Lucian, after receiving undoubtable permission from you and assurance that it’s okay, has moved into your house.

Secondly, he and your mum are now officially engaged, and are due to be married on the 31st of March, when it’ll be the Easter holidays. That pretty much gives you all seven months to get ready, although there’s not that much to be done, since they’ve been planning ahead for some time now anyway.

Thirdly, you learned that Lucian has been aware of your mum’s suspicion about your relationship with the boys, and has shared that suspicion, for months now. She told him about the boys’ plan, swearing him to secrecy over it, and so realised as soon as he heard your mum’s shouting, he realised that you’d decided to be with the guys.

So, your new dad, who you thought would never find out about your polyamorous relationship, already has, and has accepted it because he’s seen your love for the boys for years now.

Fourthly, you’ve also learned that Lucian’s sons are twins called Xander and Tobias, that they’re in your year in college, and that they’re Lucian’s sons from a previous marriage. His ex-wife didn’t want children, and left Lucian with them after they were born, they having been conceived accidentally. They’ve been living in Selene up until now, where Lucian has also lived, but now they’re going to move in with you.

That’s happening tomorrow, by the way; you haven’t even met them yet.

Finally, today is a bad day. And that would be because today is the first day back at college.

Your alarm blares out from your phone, disrupting your blissful sleep and pleasant dream. You moan into your pillow, curling up and trying to ignore the sound. When it keeps screeching away, you whimper in dismay, hand slapping at your bedside table. You drag it off the table, tapping blindly at the screen until it finally stops. Sighing heavily, you force yourself up, eyes cracking open slowly.

There’s barely any light coming in from the bottom of the blinds, above the floor. You let out another moan.

The sun’s barely even up yet.

Throwing your covers off you and swearing at the cold air that hits you afterward, you swiftly head into the bathroom, turning the shower on and stripping. You have a quick wash, wanting to get dressed and warm as soon as possible. Once you’re done, you head back into your room in your towel, retrieving your Prefect uniform and some underwear.

The version of the Prefect uniform you wear has a white button-up shirt with a black jacket over it, white trims down the lapels and buttons at the waist. There is also a belt there, which makes the lower waist part flare out when fastened. The skirt is similar, black with white trimmings, and you wear black thigh-high socks with the school’s compulsory black boots. You also don a pair of black gloves, which go up to the wrists, that can be worn if one wants to a part of the uniform.

The version the boys all wear is very similar, containing the same white button-up shirt with a similar jacket, minus the belt. It has black trousers with no trims, but the boots required are the same. They also have the option to wear the same gloves if they wish, but both versions have to wear the black tie, which has the academy’s crest on it.

Throwing it all on, you brush your teeth, then wrap your hair in the towel and put your boots on as well. Now presentable for college apart from your hair, you get your phone again, pick up your bag, and head downstairs.

It’s dark and quiet when you go down, but it’s nice, in a way. It’s peaceful and calm, which helps to keep you settled considering how hectic the day is no doubt going to be. Fixing yourself some breakfast up, you sit at the island in the kitchen, eating at it at a reasonable pace. When you’re done, you take your towel off your head, giving it a quick rub-dry so it’s not saturated when you finish it with the hairdryer.

While you’re doing this, your phone vibrates, sat atop the counter. You peer down at it.

**_Kickass Informant:_ ** _I’m pulling up now_

You grin. Sid’s here.

Still rubbing at your hair with the towel, you part it how you normally would, making you look a bit less dishevelled. You go to the front door, swiping your keys and unlocking it. You open it just in time to see Sid get out of his car in his Prefect uniform, then make his way up the path to your house. You beam at him, waving, to which he just rolls his eyes with his signature smirk. He comes in once you move out of the way, before you then close the door and lock it again.

You turn around, about to speak, when his hands find your face. You’re eased back against the door. His lips descend on yours in a heartbeat.

You squeak, taken aback by the unexpected kiss. It fades rapidly, though, leaving you reciprocating the kiss eagerly, pleasure tingling through your limbs and making your legs feel weak. Your heart thunders in your chest, beating hard and fast with the rush of adrenaline now surging through you. His fingers slide through your damp hair, cupping the back of your head and holding you there.

His tongue slips out after a second, and you almost collapse there and then, feeling it trace over your lips, warm and soft but strong.

Your mouth opens. The sensation of his tongue mapping out everything it can find, sliding over your teeth until it finally finds your own, sends your head spinning. He presses you against the door harder, teasing your tongue with his, coaxing it to play and twine with his own. You join the game without hesitation, fighting back, and he groans lowly into the kiss. Your muscles quiver at the sound.

Unfortunately, a lack of oxygen causes you to separate after several more moments, panting for breath and flushed to high hell. His lips don’t remove themselves from you at all, instead painting your cheek, then cheekbone, before your jaw, with deep, passionate kisses. You grip your towel, other hand’s fingers digging into his shoulder through his blazer.

The thought of your mother, or, God forbid,  _Lucian_ finding you like this… it’s mortifying. But somehow, it makes it all the more exciting.

“Sid,” You gasp out, trying to think through your haze. “We’ll… be late… common area…”

He grunts, body moving against yours and drawing a stifled moan from you. His fingers slide up your thigh, exposed beneath your skirt. Your body tenses up in anticipation. “Don’t care.”

_But I do._

“Sid.” Your voice becomes firmer, logic managing to cut through his kisses for the sake of your own relationships and mental state. “Rule one. Stop it; not here, and not now.”

He stills instantly.

Rule one. Your word is final.

He sighs, kissing your jaw one last time, before he reluctantly pulls back. You use the door to keep yourself upright, chest heaving and body trembling. You notice that his face is just a little bit rosy, and that he seems to be shaking just a tad as well. “If you didn’t have so much self-control, I have no idea where we’d end up, Princess.”

You flatten your palm against the door, trying to get your breath back. “We’d be very, very late.”

With that, you push yourself away from the door, heading back to the kitchen. You retrieve the hairdryer with slightly weak fingers, putting it on low and starting to dry your hair. Sid saunters in, leaning against the counter next to you, while you use the mirror to help you. He watches you shamelessly, smirking all the while and still a bit red. You find yourself blushing just from his intense, suggestive gaze, but you manage to keep your focus on drying your hair, somehow.

When you’re done, you put everything away, then make sure you’ve got everything you need before nodding to Sid. “Ready?”

“Yep.” He moves to stand before you, cupping your face with one hand again, warm and gentle. You lean into the touch, letting your eyes drift shut, while he does the same with the other hand and lowers his head. He presses a long, slow kiss to your forehead, then holds your jaw instead, so that he can kiss both of your cheeks as well. “I expressed it before, but I didn’t actually say it, and I want to be the first one to.”

He rests his forehead against yours, murmuring inches from your own lips, “Good morning, Love.”

You have to press your mouth into a straight line, hard, to stop yourself from beaming at the nickname. Your hands find his chest, gripping his blazer’s lapels. “Love?”

He snorts softly. “Yeah. I figured since we’re all sharing ya, and we all call you ‘Princess’, having my own nickname for you sort of gives me a bit of independence from the group. It makes sense in my head, at least.”

You pause. That registers in your mind as being an extremely good idea.

All of them sharing you as a girlfriend means that they don’t get to have that absolute possession, that unconditional one-to-one isolation, between them and yourself. That’s one of the things that they’ve found hard to cope with, at one point or another if not still now, and you’ve been trying to find ways in which that is reduced. Very little, so far, has done anything, but something simple like this… it might be more effective, because even though it’s a minute detail, it’s a daily thing. It’s something that they’re faced with all the time.

It’s brilliant, actually.

“Sid…” You breathe out, eyes opening slowly, gaze focused on his chest. “You’re a genius.”

You can feel his judgemental look without even seeing his expression. “Well, yeah. But why in particular?”

You do look at him now, giving him a fiercely determined nod. “I’ll tell you later, with all the guys. You just inadvertently made this a hell of a lot easier for everyone.” You stretch up, standing on your toes, to kiss his forehead proudly. He stiffens, surprised by the bold action, but you just grin and withdraw, chirping, “Come on. Let’s go and get Louis.”

He can only stare after you for a moment as you bounce out of the kitchen, hand floating up to his head. A goofy little smile graces his lips, quickly forming a smirk, before he follows you out.

The house safely locked, you go with Sid to his car, driving to Louis’ manor. You pull up outside, having texted him to say you’re close a minutes ago, and he emerges from the house as expected. A servant bows to him on his way out, locking the door behind him, and Louis gets in in the middle row of seats. You send him a smile through the rear-view mirror.

“Good morning. Are you okay?” You ask. He nods, looking sleepy, very much not awake and still groggy, sat back in his Prefect uniform.

“Good morning. I’m fine. Are you, Princess?” He asks in turn. You hum, nodding enthusiastically.

“Yep. I’ve got a little plan for us all, thanks to Sid. I’ll tell you it later with the others.” He gives you a marginally dubious look, and sends a cutting, suspicious glance at Sid afterward, but he says nothing.

Twenty minutes and the standard amount of ‘Lid’ banter later, you arrive at the Royal Wysterian Academy. The sun’s up now, albeit not very high in the sky, but there are no clouds. It’s a bit chilly, but that’s normal for Wysteria in September; the Autumns here can be quite nippy at times.

Still, many students are milling and clustering about in the ground, particularly in the car parks. Many of the year thirteens are marvelling at their new cars, year sevens doing the same with the grounds; some of them will be having their first day in high school here today.

But, of course, a considerable amount of students are also gathered around a certain group of seven people.

Meaning, the rest of the boys.

Your lips turn up in an amused, if not exasperated, smile.

Over the years, you and the boys have done a significant number of things for the students here. You’ve helped kids with bullying, with teaching styles and inconsistencies, with supporting students who’ve needed help, with assisting teachers in controlling classes when they’ve been overwhelmed… you’ve really gotten around as a group.

As such, pretty much all of the students in the high school and college are aware of who you all are, and many of those students also highly respect you all for the things you’ve done. Even from things like you all doing well in your clubs’ tournaments and games against other academies, to your interaction with the students on a personal level for taking their concerns to the student council, you’ve really earned the trust of a lot of the kids here.

As a result, you’ve amassed a… shall we say,  _following_.

Of course, that’s not just down to your actions. A good portion of those who tend to fawn over you all, or just some of you, do so also because of aesthetics. Put simply, you and the boys are inhumanly beautiful, and that’s not something that’s been missed by the students.

Most of them know to just marvel from a distance, but some are much less subtle.

There’s a little round of gasps, excited murmurs and shouts from said pupils, heard even through the car, when Sid drives into the car park and over to his usual space. However, you notice that this goes for year sevens as well, which confuses you; they shouldn’t know who you all are yet, since this will be their first day having exposure to any of you. They shouldn’t be  _able_  to be excited by you all turning up.

Sid parks the car, and Louis sighs. Sid makes a face, while you shake your head. “Ready?”

Louis drops his gaze to the floor. “Not in the slightest.”

You smile just a little. “Come on. Let’s get inside and get this over with. We’ll probably have an assembly first.”

You all get out of the car, albeit reluctantly. More hoots and cheers sound when you do, and some of the students start bouncing up and down with excitement. You just exhale slowly, fixing your bag over your body and waiting for Louis and Sid to stand on either side of you. When they reach you, you walk with them through the groups of students, making a beeline for the others.

They seem relieved at your appearance; you can see several year eights chattering animatedly to them, and Giles, Leo, Nico and Robert are smiling pleasantly back, listening, while Alyn and Albert look ready to throttle them all. Byron is focused entirely on you.

“Hi,” You greet them when you’re close enough, glancing around you with a degree of confusion. “Let’s get inside. It’s a bit crowded out here.”

“Agreed.” Byron nods, speaking lowly. He, Albert and Nico take the spear point, and the rest of you move into your non-emergency formation; those three at the front, Alyn and Leo behind them, Sid and Louis behind them, and Giles, yourself and Robert at the back.

As you make your way across the car park and to the main building, there are excited whispers, giggles, shouts and cheers, and in all honesty, it unnerves you. Sure, you usually get some attention from the students, but this is just weird. It’s almost like you’re all… famous.

“This is rather odd.” Giles observes, arms crossed, on your left. Both you and Robert nod, and the latter speaks, voice somewhat uncomfortable.

“We don’t usually get this much attention through the day, no less from just arriving.” He adds.

“Plus,” You murmur, voice quiet. “We shouldn’t be getting any attention from the year sevens, since it’s their first day, but there’s loads of them all excited over us. I’m a bit worried.”

Giles frowns, and Robert swallows, expression betraying suspicion. Giles’ tone drops an octave. “That’s a very valid, if very concerning, point.”

As you all make your way through one of the corridors, you see a familiar group, clustered around the corner stairs you all use to get to form, around the boys’ forms. Your stomach feels like it twists, nervousness rising in you, along with a healthy dose of apprehension.

Your eyes settle on two of the students in particular, a boy and a girl, for the briefest of moments. Adalicia Sauvage, and Saber Boucher. Your throat thickens.

You remember them. You remember falling from Albert’s shoulders in the library because of them, remember the crack of your skull against the laminate. You remember the pain it caused you, how it disoriented you and concussed you with the force you went down.

You also recall how Albert was hurt as well. Your heart starts to ache with anger.

You force yourself to settle, expression clearing, as the boys come to a gradual halt. Peeking around them, you see that several of the other group’s students are blocking the stairs.

“Hey, freaks.” A girl sneers. “Have a nice summer?”

You hear Albert’s snapped response, the hostility in his tone seeping through like acid. “Yes. Now, move out of the way. We have form to attend.”

There’s a snort, and then a male voice. “But we’re standing here. We were here first – use the other stairs.”

There’s a beat of silence. Another second passes, and then Byron speaks, words cutting and ruthless.

“I suggest you remove yourselves from here. This is a public place and a public facility, meaning you have no right to obstruct it. You’re in the way; move, before you find yourselves being removed.”

_Ouch._

You find yourself smiling, just a bit.

_I love my boyfriends so much._

There’s the sound of movement, and you all start to move again, the guys beginning to ascend the stairs. As you pass through the group, you hear Adalicia speak, crowing sarcastically, “Aw, and here I thought you’d died over the holidays, ___! I missed you, bitch! How’s life treating you?”

Irritation sparks in you, but you bite back the insult that tries to erupt, instead not looking back and responding just as dryly. “Trust me, I thought the same thing about you, although I can’t say I missed you in the slightest. Life’s just peachy; thanks.”

There’s a collection of chuckles from the boys, and Giles and Robert both give you approving smiles. You don’t look back once as you go up the stairs, then into form.

Sitting at your usual table, you sigh, rubbing your neck. Sid is on your right, and Nico your left, on your three-seater table. Opposite you on their three-seater, from your left to right, are Louis, Leo and Alyn. On your left, with their two-seater table facing inwards, are Byron, on Nico’s left, and Albert, on Louis’ right. On Sid’s right is Giles, and on Alyn’s left is Robert, the two of them on another two-seater facing inwards, and so opposite Albert and Byron.

“God, they’re all idiots.” You complain. The boys all show their agreement in nods or sounds, and you sigh. “Oh well. We need to work out why all the year sevens are going hyper over us. That’s not normal.”

“Yeah. It’s actually kind of worrying, considering that they seem almost like they’ve been fans of us for a while, with the level of excitement they were showing.” Leo muses across from you.

He stretches his legs out under the table, his feet finding yours, before he traps them there. You give him a chiding look, but you’re smiling, trying not to smirk. He grins, feeling you lift your feet up, before he brings his own together. You rest yours on top of them, identical boots settled together perfectly.

_It’s little things like this that I love. It’s things like this that are important._

However, your little bubble of joy is sadly burst, not a second later, and rather harshly at that.

Hands slam down on your shoulders, hard enough to literally send your torso crashing against your table, face almost going with it. Only your instant reaction of slamming your hands against the table prevents it from happening.

The boys immediately rip the person away from you, Sid lashing his forearm straight at them and sending them stumbling back. Nico’s hands find your back and forearm, and he peers down at you with panic while you try to catch your breath and slow your pounding heart. “___? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You shake your head. Sid’s rather miffed voice sounds, cutting off Nico’s interrogation.

“What the hell was that, dickhead? Do you wanna not smash her face into the table?” He growls. There’s a slightly frightened choke, and then a frantic,

“I’m her friend! She knows me! I sort of fell, so that’s why I nearly smashed her face in, but… she knows me! I promise!”

You internally groan, turning around.

It’s Mimi Lévesque, a girl you helped in P.E. once, when no one would play badminton with her because she unfortunately has rather poor coordination. After you did, she practically wouldn’t leave you alone and vowed to help you whenever humanly possible, pretty much deifying you from then on.

You told her repeatedly that you didn’t do anything worthy of such a response and that she was going overboard, but then she explained that she has very few people in the year who will interact with her; your willingness to talk, then play with, let alone help her, was nothing short of a miracle to her.

You couldn’t argue against that. After all, you know the feeling all too well.

“Hi, Mimi.” You manage to almost cough out, feeling your lungs twitching from your accelerated heart rate and the force they’ve been struck with. “I’m assuming there’s a reason why you just nearly broke my face?”

She laughs nervously, scratching the back of her head. With rich chocolate hair, gold-hued eyes and glowing sun-kissed skin, she’s a picture of natural beauty, despite her jittery approach. “Yeah, sorry. Um, I heard you talking just then about why the year sevens know you and are excited over you, and I guessed you don’t know about the pictures yet.”

_Pictures?_

Immediately, your insides churn with alarm. Thinking the worst, you spin around in your chair, kneeling on it and facing her fully. “What? What pictures? What do you mean?”

She looks almost intimidated now, and yet somehow very much not at the same time. You dismiss it swiftly.

“Yeah. You know how they asked you guys to do promotional pictures at the end of the year, in June, for the prospectus, since you’re Prefects?” You nod, eyes narrowing. She fiddles with her fingers absently, explaining,

“Well, basically, they’ve put some of those pictures, as well as ones for the other years’ Prefects, on the wall in the main foyer, with some basic information about you guys. It’s supposed to make sure that the new kids, and everyone else, is able to know the Prefects so that they can feel comfortable approaching you if they need you. All the people who love you guys are ecstatic, because I’m not even going to lie, the pictures are beautiful, and the year sevens have just fallen in love with you as a result. So, yeah. That’s why you’re basically celebrities now.”

For a moment, you can’t respond.

Your face is on the wall. They’ve put all of your faces up on the wall, like marketing posters for the academy.

You groan again, sinking back down into your chair. Several of the boys do the same. “Fuck. This is why we should have said no to the terms and conditions when we first came here.”

“Okay, guys! Assembly, let’s go! It’s a whole school one, too, so you’re going to be all squished together with the year sevens, eights, nines, tens, elevens  _and_ twelves! We don’t even think you’re all going to fit, but heck, we can try! Let’s go!”

Miss Erickson, your form teacher, announces this cheerfully, but it only serves to worsen an already sucky situation. You haul yourself up, swiping your bag and rubbing your temple. “For the love of God…” You give Mimi a weak but appreciative smile. “Thanks, Mimi. You’re a lifesaver.”

She freezes for a few seconds, seeming to sort of just stop thinking. Then, you see her cheeks tint with pink, and she stutters out, “Y-You think I’m- I’m a l-lifesaver?”

Your head drifts up and down, expression puzzled at her reaction. “Yeah. If you hadn’t told us that, we probably wouldn’t have worked out why the year sevens are acting so weirdly. It’ll be a huge help, since we understand why now.”

She doesn’t reply again for another few seconds. The class has filed out now, and is waiting out in the corridor for the other classes to move past, so it’s just you, her and the boys in the room. You give her a now marginally concerned but mostly dubious look. “Are you okay? Did I say something to offend you?”

“No! No! N-Not in the slightest!” She reacts instantly, stuttering and waving her arms about almost madly. Taken aback by the near-shouted words, you just nod once more. She steps closer now, though, blushing furiously and stuttering even more. “I’m really sorry for this. I mean, I know you guys must get a lot of attention from people like this, but… um…” She ducks her head, exclaiming, “Can I hug you? Please?”

_Oh, fuck me._

The memory of Archduke Grandier hugging you returns full-force, accompanied by a surge of very much unwelcome nausea. You force it back, rationalising the situation; you’ll be fine. She’s not doing it maliciously, and it’s just a hug. It’s nothing serious. You’ve been hugged by other students before. It’s not a big thing.

The boys aren’t nearly as sure. They can see the very subtle shifts in your body language, practically crying out discomfort, as soon as the words leave Mimi’s lips. Looks are shared. Wary, cautious glances are sent. All of them prepare to help you avoid her request, fully aware of how the Archduke’s advance toward you might have made you more apprehensive.

“Yeah.” You answer after a moment, albeit quietly.

The boys all stiffen, but they don’t stop you. It’s not their right to attempt to.

Mimi beams, straightening up and eyes glittering with joy. She reaches out to you, bounding up to you, before throwing her arms around your shoulders and upper body. She does it painfully tightly, apparently not aware of the force she’s exerting, and you have to stifle a wince at the slight throbbing it causes in your arms.

You’re just about to hug her back, granted much gentler, when she trips forward just a bit, having overstepped and unbalanced herself with excitement.

You’re sent stumbling back, your thighs knocking into the back of your chair. Luckily, the table prevents you from falling completely, but also means that she ends up extremely up-close and personal in the process. She doesn’t seem to notice, too blissful and joyous about hugging you to realise that she’s just hurt you a second time in the course of two minutes. Her face squished against yours and chest pressing quite uncomfortably hard into you, you feel the discomfort return, although it’s not as aggressive this time.

It’s there, and it’s distracting, to the point where you want to disengage badly, but not so much that you’re going to.

Breathing through it, you hug her back, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“I’ve wanted to hug you for so long. You’re just so nice, ___, and you’re the only one who’ll talk to me. I’m sorry I’m like this. I get really lonely, and you’re so kind to everyone, so I just… I just feel like I can be honest with you. You’re always supporting people. It’s almost hard, I guess, to not want to hug you and stuff. A lot of people say that, you know. You’re, like, magnetic or something.”

That’s a first. Your fingers curl in on themselves a bit, confusion erupting in your mind like a wildfire.

_Is she kidding? A good amount of the people I know, at least in the academy, hate my guts and want me to leave or die, depending on just how much they hate me. Even with the number of people I’ve helped, the ones who follow us around are probably just there for the boys._

She withdraws, and you drop your hands, but she keeps hold of your shoulders. She stares at you, eyes taking on an uncharacteristically serious shine. “But a lot of people are after you, ___. There’s tension in here, and a lot of it. The problems with finance, jobs and education are starting to reach even the students, and they’re getting angry over it. They’re looking for scapegoats, ___. If Aubrey hadn’t told the whole academy that you’re with the ICAC when she tried to take you down, you wouldn’t be in this position now. Your status with them is making you a target.”

She exhales shakily, a glint of fear shimmering in her eyes. “I don’t know how far the students will go, but I’ve heard more than enough talk over the holidays. They’re blaming the ICAC, and looking for individual agents that they know to focus their blame on.”

Your heart drops through your chest, into your stomach.

_I’m being targeted? Just because I’m an ICAC agent?_

A slow, petrifying sense of dread creeps over you, consuming your thoughts.

_They’re coming after me, just like Gerald did with dad. He ended up dead._

Her gaze becomes even stronger now, and she leans in close, voice urgent. “Don’t let them get you alone, ___. Don’t trust anyone, at least not right now. Adalicia is after you. Do not trust any of her group or even let them near you. Okay? And Saber, too. Their families suffered because of the ICAC mission on Dregea last year, and they’re apparently being hit again, by the ICAC, for fraud right now. That’s given them reason to lash out, in any way they can. I think the two of them will go after you, to hurt you, because they know how important you are to the ICAC and they want them to hurt just as bad as they are themselves.”

_How can she know that?_

At your shocked, almost wounded expression, she smiles weakly, just a little bit. “I know all of this for a reason, don’t worry. My mum’s an agent too.” She glances behind her, the class now about to go to the hall, before she squeezes your shoulders. “I’ll do everything I can to get information reported to you. You have a mentor, right? A teacher in the ICAC who looks after you?”

Of course you do. It’s Lucian. It’s your dad, or at least will be, come March. You nod. “Yeah.”

She looks relieved. “Thank God. Go to them, and tell them to expect a call from Alisanne Lévesque. She’s been monitoring this, using me as reconnaissance, to work out what they’re planning to do. Don’t worry about giving me your mentor’s name – Alisanne, my mum, has access to it because she knows your name. She’ll alert your mentor about this and work with them to solve it. Don’t do anything yourself. Your position is far too dangerous, and far too fragile, to risk getting involved with any kind of attempt to stop this. Do you understand?”

It’s so much to take in all at once, and such a dramatic shift in her persona all of a sudden. Your mind has sort of numbed you, emotions having gone silent from the barrage of feelings pouring in all at once.

Thankfully, that lets you think more clearly, calmly and coherently, and you’re able to see the reason behind her instruction, no matter the consequence of you essentially doing nothing about your own, very serious, problem. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand. I won’t do anything – I’ll stay away from Adalicia and Saber. Thank you, Mimi, for telling about all of this. Thank you so much. I didn’t even know…”

She shakes her head. “Your mentor would have told you as soon as they got the call from my mum, so you would have found out today, anyway. I just wanted to let you know now, because of the risk from Adalicia and Saber. I didn’t want you to be oblivious, when they could try something today.”

She raises her eyes to the boys. They’ve all been listening intently, experiencing the same, gripping fear you have been, and gradually shifting closer to you. She levels them all with a near-desperate gaze. “You guys are her best friends. Right?”

They all nod. Giles, frowning deeply already, now crosses his arms and moves to be standing inches behind you. “Of course.”

She nods, not seeming intimidated by his proximity, nor the fact that the others are now doing the same and making a protective ring around you. “Good. You all know this, obviously, but even I’m aware that ___ has done a lot for you guys. I know she means a hell of a lot to you.”

There’s a unanimous nod from them, although Alyn and Albert’s are subtler. “You need to protect her, now more than ever. This is serious; it’s not just a little spat between you guys and the other groups, or even a power struggle. This is completely political now, which means that there are no rules and no limits to how serious this can get.”

She pauses for a moment, slightly breathless, before inhaling deeply and continuing. “The ICAC is cracking down on corruption because they’ve been called on to relentlessly after the Dregea Incident, and they’re exposing every skeleton in the closets of basically all the companies, organisations, businesses and corporations in the country. That virtually encompasses every noble family in Wysteria, as well as some based in other countries, like Stein and Protea.”

All of a sudden, Miss Erickson peeks her head inside the room curiously, breaking Mimi’s explanation off.

You expect her to tell you all to get to assembly, but her face soon shifts with realisation, understanding crossing her features. She makes her way over swiftly, coming to stand beside Mimi. The latter gives her a pleading look. “I needed to tell her about Adalicia and Saber, and their families. She’s not safe.”

Seeing Miss Erickson’s dubious look at the boys, she shakes her head. “They already know about this. I got confirmation from mum – they’ve been involved in with the ICAC before, and with ___’s jobs. They’re trusted.”

Miss Erickson nods. She’s a member of the ICAC as well, as are all of the teachers here, undercover to protect the students. There’s so many of them because the student population is split roughly fifty-fifty, in that half come from noble families or those with elevated statuses, like you, since you have associations with the ICAC.

The other half are, to put it in the way the nobles see it, commoners, many of them in the academy through scholarships. As such, the latter are at an increased risk from noble corruption, and the academy was structured in such a way that the ICAC can intervene more easily when problems arise.

You’ve already worked with her a few times, in that she’s covered for you in front of the students when you’ve been away on missions or training courses. She, like most agents, is extremely understanding, and can be trusted with anything.

“That’s fine, then. I can take you all in; finish up as fast as you can.” She tells Mimi. Said girl nods, and Miss Erickson smiles briefly, then makes her way to the door again. Mimi returns her attention to you.

“Like I said, nearly every big power in Wysteria is under attack right now, and they’re not happy. They’re royally pissed at the ICAC for exposing them, so they’re hitting back in whatever way they can, and they’re out for blood, as far as we can see. One of the ways they’re doing it has been happening a lot lately, and it’s that the children of the big powers are being used to target vulnerable agents, like you, who are constantly in a public place where they’re susceptible to hits from those children.”

The boys all nod, as you do yourself, albeit slowly.

This is seeming more and more like a really, horribly twisted dream, or a nightmare. Ten minutes ago, you were happy. You didn’t have any problems. Now, you’re under constant, immediate threat from the most powerful people in the country. You don’t want to believe it.

Mimi seems to see the dismay in your eyes, and the pain lurking in them, hidden but not invisible. She rubs your shoulders, swallows hard, and attempts to smile. It crumbles in a heartbeat.

“It’s not certain that they’ll come for you, ___. I’m not saying they will. All I’m saying is that, right now, things are getting out of hand, way too fast for the ICAC to cope with, and you’re in the population most at risk. Please, be careful. Don’t leave yourself open to them, in any way, obvious or not. Stay with one of your guys while you’re in college at least, and try not to be alone outside college, if you can.”

Sid’s hand finds your arm, warm fingers wrapping around your bicep, before he states, “She won’t be. Now that I know about this, I sure as hell ain’t leaving her to deal with all the pricks that might try something stupid. She’s not leaving my sight.”

You don’t want them to endanger themselves. The thought is even worse than the prospect of defending yourself alone. “Sid…”

He lets go of your arm, clamping a hand over your mouth. “Shut it. I’m not leaving you on your own. Don’t even try and fight me on this.”

“Or me.” Leo agrees, hand settling against the small of your spine. The touch is comforting, to say the least. Alyn nods, crossing his arms tightly.

“Or me. They won’t hurt her.”

Every single one of them follows, without hesitation, pledging their protection to you.

Louis. “They won’t come near her.”

Robert. “Whatever it takes, she will be safe and protected, no matter who threatens her.”

Giles. “They will fail if they so much as attempt to harm her.”

Byron. “Those who intend to harm her will suffer.”

Albert. “They will not lay a hand on her.”

Nico. “They’ll wish they hadn’t lived if they even think about it.”

Your eyes become glazed with tears. Your heart burns, aching with an intense, unbearable, yet beautiful fire, licking at your emotions and sparking waves of them, rolling through your entire body. The vindication in their expressions, body language, voices and words is enough to make you want to burst out crying; their love for you is clear.

It might not outwardly be romantic love, but that doesn’t matter. That desire to protect, that same instinct and need to protect a loved one regardless of the  _type_  of love, is something that can reduce even the strongest person from rock to sand, when it’s expressed toward them so much.

Mimi manages a soft but completely relieved smile. She breathes out deeply, her own shoulders trembling and eyes full of wonder. Your lips part in shock; she looks close to tears as well.

“God, all of you are beautiful. All ten of you, just…” She shakes her head, gaze travelling around you all, settling on each and every face with deliberate purpose. “It’s breath-taking. I’m not ashamed of it; I love what you guys have. The way you love each other and care so much is the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m so glad you all have each other.”

You’re the last person she looks to. She pulls you into another, still painful hug, but this one seems almost like one of desperation, not of admiration. Somehow, that just makes you all the more frightened. It’s that which causes your arms to remain at your sides, not the discomfort that you feel.

She embraces you hard, whispering, “I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this, ___. I’m so, so sorry.”

She lets you go, stepping back and rubbing at her teary eyes. “Remember what I said. It doesn’t matter who it is or if they need help; you don’t give anyone a chance to get you alone, or in a vulnerable position. Right now, you’re the only one who matters. Your safety is the only thing you need to think about.” She lifts her hand in a weak wave. “See you later.”

You reciprocate the gesture just as weakly, nodding just slightly. “I will. Thank you, Mimi. See you.”

She nods back, then runs outside, into the corridor. You hear her speaking to Miss Erickson, the latter responding lowly, before her footsteps echo down the corridor.

As soon as she’s gone, the boys swarm on you.

You can barely make out any particular sentences or questions with the onslaught of voices. They all seem to be there, touching and consoling you, trying to see if you’re okay.

Honestly, you really, really don’t know. You don’t know what to think, feel, say or do right now.

Miss Erickson returns now, motioning for you all to come out. “Come on, guys; the Prefects need to be in this assembly, unfortunately, or else I would have let you sit it out.”

Numb, you nod, moving out from the boys’ many hands to approach her. They follow behind closely, increasingly worried about your persistent silence.

Miss Erickson swiftly clicks onto this as well, and she peers at you when you get close, her expression betraying considerable worry. She places a cautious hand on your shoulder.

“___? I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair for you to be having to deal with this, especially not on your first day back. All of the teachers are aware of the problem, so they’re ready for anything, and they’ll be on-hand to help if you ever need them. If anyone tries anything with you, you come to one of us, okay? This goes for all of the student-agents. We’re with you all, we promise. You’re not alone in this, and we’ll keep you safe.”

Your throat swells with emotion, but you manage a nod. You can’t bring yourself to say anything. Her pupils expand just a little; evidently, she’s starting to realise how shaken up you are. She looks to the boys, expression hardening. “Come on. Keep her with you – let’s just get her through assembly, and then we’ll talk about this properly.”

The boys express their agreement, remaining close to you. She lets go of your shoulder, heading off down the now-empty corridor. The boys coax you forward, and you let them, walking after her.

Soon, you’re entering the drama hall, a massive room set up with a stage, stage lights, curtains and large windows, as well as a ridiculous number of seats. Inside, it’s stuffy, and there’s a low murmur of sound from the students inside. You can see confused or excited year sevens, curious year eights, annoyed year nines, uncaring year tens, stressed year elevens, irritated year twelves and exhausted year thirteens, all showing typical signs of their stage of education.

The Prefects are stood around the room, you see; they’re positioned by the year they represent, so the year seven ones are standing to the right of the rows filled with year sevens, and the year eights are on the left of the year eight rows, and so on and so forth.

Heads turn when you all walk in. Instantly, there’s a louder, more energetic buzz of sound, and several students wave or bounce up and down at the sight of your group. You don’t have the heart to even smile, and neither do the boys. You all simply follow Miss Erickson over to right side of your year’s seats, where she tells you to line up.

The boys do this, positioning themselves automatically, so you’re in the centre of the line; on your right are Sid, Giles, Louis, Alyn and Leo, and on your left are Robert, Byron, Albert and Nico. You keep your eyes on the head-teacher, Mr. Anderson, as he hops up onto the stage, holding a microphone.

“Okay! Welcome back, everyone, or to those who are here for the first time, congratulations on joining our academy! Worry not, I won’t keep you for long; I’m just here to say, I hope you’ve have a great summer and are ready to work hard this year, even more than last year. Whether you’re just starting your secondary education or are nearing the finish line, keep up the effort right until the end!

“The qualifications you get here will stay with you for the rest of your life, although I do want to remind you all: they do not define you. There is more to life than grades. Even if you come out with grades that you didn’t want, that’s not the end. Okay? You’re not doomed. You have options and choices, and opportunities will always be available to you.”

You zone out at this point, thoughts drifting away into the dark abyss of your subconscious.

_I’m being targeted. The other student-agents here are being targeted, too. None of us are entirely safe anymore._

A frown forms on your face.

_Is what we did really so evil? Is the Dregea Incident something we really deserve to be hunted for, when only myself and Dimitri managed to get out and survive? The rest of us died. We suffered enough just from learning that fact. We don’t need to be punished even more._

You swallow hard.

“Now, I’m going to introduce to you all the school’s Prefects! As you may have seen, we have brand new, very professional boards in the entrance with all our beautiful Prefects on them in the main foyer, with some bits and pieces of information on them. That’s so you can know the names of your Prefects at any time, and be able to talk to them without feeling uncomfortable or rude.”

He pulls a piece of paper out from his pocket, grinning cheekily. “Sorry. I haven’t had the chance to learn the names of the year seven Prefects, so I have to use this. Don’t worry, though; I’ll have you all down to a T in no time.”

That earns laughs and giggles from the year sevens. He starts to introduce each one of them by name, and although they seem nervous, they wave or smile in response. Your heart sinks, and you lean back against the wall, hoping to disappear through it.

_No, no, no, no… I’m already being targeted by people in here. Don’t give them a perfect opportunity to learn what I look like!_

The boys have clicked on to this as well. They glance around each other in alarm, sending the same stares at Miss Erickson. Eyes wide, she can only watch in dismay as the head-teacher keeps introducing the Prefects, nearing you and the boys by the seconds. She casts an apologetic, helpless look at you, devastation clear in her face.

_This day is just getting worse and worse._

“And, finally our year thirteen Prefects! These guys have done immense amounts of stuff for the school, all through their time here, and are really great people. You can go to them for anything – they’re well-equipped and willing to deal with any problems or concerns you have, for any years. So! First, we have the charming, witty, genius Leo Crawford, the Vice President of the Student Council!”

Leo gives the students a heart-breaking smile and a wink, to which several of them squeal or giggle. There’s only one problem; he smiles with the right side of his lip. It’s fake.

“Next, Alyn Crawford, one of the best if not  _the_  best rider in the academy!” Alyn rolls his eyes, ignoring the hoots from the other riders who look up to him and admire his skills. He crosses his arms, blushing faintly. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the still-giggling students.

“Then, we have Louis Howard, who is supremely talented with photography and poetry!” Louis diverts his eyes to the ground, obviously uncomfortable with the attention. There are several coos, mostly from girls if you’re honest, crying out, “Aw!” at his timid response.

“Next up is Giles Christophe, our wonderful Student Council President and master of Wysterian law!” There’s a round of cheers from the year in general, and several hoots from the other council members. Giles smiles coolly, arms remaining crossed habitually, but anyone who knows him well can see that he’s feeling tense and rather displeased about this whole situation.

“Moving on, now we have Sid Arnault, a master of coding and computers, and also a rare talent in business!” Sid smirks, but otherwise doesn’t move. It doesn’t escape you that the smirk is fake. You brace yourself, knowing you’re next, and dreading what he might say about you.

“Now, we have ___ ____. She’s our most gifted linguist, with six languages on the go at once, and is our strongest student for self-defence!”

_You idiot. You absolute fool._

You could kill him. He just announced to the entire school that you’re a good fighter, meaning that anyone going after you now will deliberately up their numbers to overwhelm you. He may as well have put the noose around your neck himself.

You force a very small, very subtle smile onto your face, giving a little wave. The loudest round of cheers and shouts comes instantly, several students hollering and calling your name, but it only makes you feel worse. When a few of them clap, you almost want to cry instead of smiling.

_I wonder if those cheers are real, or are from people who hate me. I wonder if the ones cheering are the ones that plan to target me, or are already doing so._

“Next up is our very own Picasso, Robert Branche! He’s God-like with a paintbrush, and has brought pride, victory and honour to us many a time with his paintings!” This is sounding more and more like a really cheesy TV show by the second, and yet the students seem quite entertained, if not interested at the least. Robert smiles gently, expression soft and kind, earning several excited squeals and shouts from the crowd.

Just like Leo and Sid, though, it’s not real, and you know that because you’ve seen his fake smile far too many times over the years.

“Now, here is Byron Wagner, one of our esteemed, permanent transfer students all the way from Stein. He’s brilliant at politics and law, and is our pride and joy when it comes to chess!” Byron just nods, arms crossed and expression blank. There are screams and shouts of his name, again more predominantly female, although a few males are in there as well.

“Almost done now! Here we have Albert Burckhardt, a jack of all trades, but a gift in film and no doubt destined to be great in self-defence!” Albert’s expression flattens. He stares blankly at the students, seeming if anything annoyed by how they become more riled up by his lack of response.

_No! Goddammit, stop! Stop pointing out which ones of us are better at protecting ourselves!_

“And, last but not least, we have the notoriously bubbly Nico Meier, and absolute delight all around but also absolutely fabulous at fencing and duels, as well as a beautiful singer!”

Your heart is thundering away. Panic simmers inside you like the embers of a flame, exposed to more and more fuel by the second.

_He mustn’t know. He mustn’t realise the danger he’s putting us in. He just singled out and put me, Albert and Nico in even more severe danger than we were already in, and made the others targets, now looking to be lesser threats than us and so easier to hurt._

The screams Nico gets are nearly as loud as yours, but they’re more discernible, revolving around him being adorable and people wanting him to sing something. He winks, giving his signature cheeky smile, earning a collection of excited giggles in response. You can see he’s feeling uneasy, though, beneath the cheery innocence.

The head-teacher claps, encouraging, “Most of you know these guys very well, and know how wonderful they are and have been all through their time here. Give them a round of applause, everyone; they’re no doubt going to be just as great this year, and we’re going to miss them once they leave in June.”

The students do as he says, clapping enthusiastically. Had you not been given the rather depressing news earlier, you would probably be flattered and honoured to see them all doing so in such a willing way. Because of that, though, you’re feeling less than impressed, and less than appreciative, of their apparent fondness of you all.

“Right! All done. So, I just want to say again, a big thank you for all your work last year, those who were here, and welcome again to those just starting. I also want to announce that the pool has finished being renovated, and that you’ll all have the opportunity to do it in P.E. once every two weeks! Additionally, I’m just going to reiterate to everyone something that seems to be sort of impossible for teenagers to understand nowadays; no phones. Okay? They’re not allowed…”

_We’ll be leaving in June, he said._

Your eyes swirl with uncertainty, arms curling around your stomach with rising nervousness. The boys watch you lower your head, staring at the ground listlessly. They can’t do anything, and it’s unbearable.

_What if I, if we, don’t make it to June?_

**♡** **♔** **♡**

The rest of the day drags on, torturously slow and filled with nothing but anxiety.

You’re taken aside by Miss Erickson once everyone else is settled down, having the first-day-back adjustment time to get used to their timetables and classes. You’re taken to a meeting, where you meet all the other student ICAC agents; there are seven of them, one in year eight, two in year nine, two in year ten, one in year eleven and one in your year. They all have the same wariness about them that you do; they’ve seen things, and it’s given them that unmistakable maturity one can only develop after witnessing something horrific.

The meeting entails basically everything Mimi told you.

There’s currently a rising financial crisis in Wysteria due to a fluctuation in its stock market, and those of Laurelia and Protea, which are causing instability in the big powers of Wysteria. In particular, the Wysterian region of Dregea is struggling to bring itself out of a district-isolated depression, following the incident last year, and that is where many of the noble families of the country have businesses or companies set up, since it’s much easier to get less-than-legal deals done there.

The financial crisis has caused huge problems for those nobles, which is a good thing, because it’s allowed to ICAC to move in at the most opportune moment, flushing out now-exposed criminal dealings and fraud, running rife in the region that was devastated when they tried to liberate it from rebels.

However, that’s also a very bad thing, because the only thing worse than the nobility are the nobility when they’re pissed.

They’re not posing an immediately violent threat, but they are presenting an immediately informational one. They’re trying to find out anything they can about agents in the ICAC, to use it against the individuals and break down the organisation from the inside. In particular, they’re going after young agents, ones exceptionally vulnerable to attacks, and in education, somewhere that lets them be open to attack for at least six hours five days of the week.

The head-teacher shows up at this point, dragged in by Miss Erickson, and she explains all of this to him very, very clearly. He pales, realising the mistake he made by pointing you out, when she tells him that he just gave any potentially threatening students the exact information they’d want about you, a targeted student. He apologises profusely, gushing out that he wasn’t aware of this going on. You just dismiss it, too tired and fed up already to care about his apologies.

The teacher-agents’ instructions are impossible to understand.

Report any students you think are a threat to yourself, another agent, or any of the students, even if it’s just a gut feeling.

Don’t travel alone, at any time, if possible.

Avoid using violence at all times when it’s an option, but if you are threatened, do whatever is necessary to keep yourself alive and safe.

Gather evidence where you can to use against anyone who attempts to harm you.

There’s a last, much more satirical instruction from Daryl, the P.E. teacher otherwise known as Mr. Summers.

“Don’t die, kids. You’re alive because you’re strong as hell and obviously, the world likes you.”

Somehow, you doubt that. You really, really doubt it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

At long last, the day’s over. You’ve parroted the instructions given to you by the teachers to the boys, and have formulated a routine to ensure that no one in the group will ever travel alone at least in college, and for the most part outside of college.

You all go to your lockers before you start making your way home, and while your head is absolutely full of extremely dark, serious thoughts, you don’t actually feel too bad. You’re naturally more nervous and anxious than usual, and have started to get into the habit of checking your surroundings more than you normally do, but that’s beside the point. It’s not something major.

As such, when you open your locker to put your folder inside, you go completely still.

Your eyes settle on a note, having evidently been pushed through the bottom of the locker by someone through the day. Ice may as well encase your spine, nerves buzzing with panic.

_Whoever put this in here knows which locker is mine, meaning they must have either watched me at some point, asked someone who knows, or have seen me here by accident and remembered._

The hairs of your nape prickle, standing on edge.

You don’t want the boys to have to worry about this. They’ve had enough to deal with through the day, and are insisting on taking on the role of your personal protection detail, so they don’t need to see this.

You put your folder in your locker and get your phone from your pocket, leaning over. The note now draped over your phone screen, everything you’re doing is obscured by your positioning, allowing you to read the large, print font written quite neatly across the small page. From the style, you would immediately suspect it to be a girl, although you can’t be certain.

_“You’re so full of yourself, ___. You think the world was made for you and that you’re the centre of the universe, but you’re really not. Everyone hates you. They smile and laugh and talk to you, but it’s only so that they have more to despise you over. You’re a whore, in the traditional sense, and an attention whore as well. You’re a slut, fucking everyone into liking you and then acting like a saint, the pure, special little snowflake that’s above everyone else._

_But you’re really not. You’re disgusting. You deserve to die, and it’s going to happen soon, I promise. Your dad got taken out, thank God, and now, so are you. Better get ready to beg for forgiveness for your sins, or else you’re going straight to the lowest layer of hell._

_I can be a bit nicer the next time I talk to you like this, if you want. Leave the ICAC and I’ll consider it. Leave the school, and I’ll almost entirely leave you be. Do both, and I’ll forget about you completely. Fail to do one of these at least, and it’ll only get worse. Your choice, bitch._

_Love you ;)”_

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	4. Part IV | Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

You’ve been threatened before, many a time, and it’s never really gotten you that badly.

But this… this shakes you, right down to your core.

So many emotions surface all at once. Sorrow. Rage. Disgust. Shame. Guilt. Doubt. Hatred. Self-loathing. You can barely comprehend everything rushing at you, and simply stand there, staring at the characters that, alone, can’t hurt a soul, but in this sequence, made to form these words, shatter the composure you’ve managed to maintain all day.

_I can’t let the boys see that something’s wrong._

You suck in a breath. The guys have noticed your stillness now, and you can feel a hand on your back, a head peeking over yours, trying to see what you’re doing. “___? What’s wrong?”

Leo. Your head jerks up, fingers crushing the note instantly.

You move your phone at the same time, unlocking it and opening the news. “Nothing. Sorry, I just saw a headline that surprised me.”

Nudging your folder deeper into the locker, you turn, obscuring your hand holding the note with the rest of your body. You give Leo a smile, not too strong since you’ve not done that all day, but not as weak as you naturally would have, if you weren’t trying to fool him. You laugh quietly, rattling off the first headline you see. “Samsung are actually pulling their Note 7s back because they’re all blowing up. I thought it was just a fluke that they were causing fires.”

He blinks, surprised by your sudden shift in behaviour, before narrowing his eyes. “Oh, right. Yeah, I saw that this morning.” He glances around you, into your locker, for a brief second. “Are you okay?”

You nod, sighing out and finding it way too easy, whilst somehow simultaneously excruciatingly hard, to lie to him, “Yeah. I’m just tired, you know? It… it was supposed to be a nice day today, or at least a normal one, but it’s sort of just been a bit awful. Sorry. I guess I’m just a bit upset over it all.”

_Well, I’m only half lying, when I think about it. I am goddamn upset._

His expression becomes crestfallen. He nods slowly, reaching up to hold your upper arms and rub them soothingly. “Yeah, I get it. Don’t apologise, ___. Anyone would be upset, if not freaking out, over something like this. You’ve actually been really calm all day, so that’s admittedly why we’re getting worried, at least in part.”

You take a moment to process that. “Because I’ve been calm about it?” You’re pretty much always like this, at least when you have ICAC-related threats or problems, so you suppose he’s just not used to seeing your more muted, numb side. “Oh. I didn’t realise. I think I’m always like this with ICAC stuff, so I’ve never thought twice about it. Sorry.”

He smiles just a bit at your repeated apology, shaking his head. “Hey, I just said, no apologies. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs, breathing out, “Let’s get out of here. We need to get you home so you can talk to your mother and Lucian, right?”

You nod, closing your locker and closing the padlock, then removing your keys. You keep them in your pocket, where you can always feel them, and stuff the note in there with them.

The guys notice you’re ready and start to make their way out with you. Leo manages a soft smile. “Do you reckon we can stay over? Not to sleep, necessarily, but just while you talk about everything. I think it’ll help if we’re all there, if Lucian makes any ICAC-specific decisions that might involve us.”

That makes sense. Truth be told, you don’t want to leave them in the slightest, so his question sends relief rushing through you. “Probably. I can persuade them, even if they say no.” You pause. “Wait, do the others definitely want to come over?”

He smirks, turning to them. “Who here would rather go home today, as opposed to going to ___’s house?”

All of them are silent. He chuckles, smirk becoming even more smug. You can’t suppress your own smile. “Well then, it’s settled.” You shift your bag up on your shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

The next twenty minutes entail you all getting into the cars and driving home, most of which is spent with Leo and Alyn, then Sid and Louis, going back and forth with their typical banter. Sat in the passenger seat of Sid’s car, Giles next to Louis behind you, you stare out of the window, thoughts far away. Robert, Albert and Nico are in Byron’s car.

When Sid stops at a traffic light, he reaches across the console, placing a hand on your knee. Broken from your trance, you gaze up at him, eyes questioning. “You okay?” He asks. You blink, then nod quickly, laughing out,

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I was off in my own world.” He smirks just a little, but you can see he’s not convinced. Enjoying the sensation of his hand on your knee, you place your own atop it, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind from today. Don’t worry about it. I’ll adjust soon and be back to normal, I promise.” Your eyes flick up to the lights, now amber, and you remove your hand. “The lights are changing.”

There’s pain in his eyes. He doesn’t move for a long, few heartbeats. He finally does, taking his hand off your knee and driving forward. You stifle a grimace, turning back to the window.

You hate lying to them. You hate it, because it never works. They always see through it.

Soon, you’re pulling up outside your house. You get out, eager to be inside where you’ll feel safe and settled, as opposed to outside, where you’re exposed. You make your way up the path, then pause, waiting for the guys. Sid reaches you first, taking your hand now that you’re in the protected area of the house, and Leo joins him a second later, taking your other hand. You walk up to the door with them, then briefly let them go to pull out your keys.

You feel the note, scrunched up, in your pocket. You make a mental reminder to get rid of it before the boys find it.

Unlocking the door, you head inside, then put the keys in the back of the door so that the last one in can lock it behind you all. Sid and Leo slip inside, taking your hands again, and you walk with them through the corridor. “Mum? Lucian? I’m home. The guys are here as well.”

“In here, ___. Bring the guys in with you, please; we need to talk to you!” Your mum calls from the living room. You cast knowing looks at Leo and Sid, who give them back, before you all walk into the room.

Your mum and Lucian are on the three-seater couch by the window on the western side of the room, facing the front garden. The living room has pale laminate flooring, a white marble, bioethanol fireplace on the northern wall, and a TV mounted on the wall above it. The walls are a light, panelled wooding, and the window, like all of the windows in the house encompass the entire wall, from the ceiling to the floor. The electric blinds are currently lowered halfway, stark and black against the light colour scheme of the room, but it works, the contrast undeniably aesthetically appealing.

The couch is white, as is the second, larger four-seater one which faces the fireplace. Opposite the three-seater is your mum’s favourite chair, the circular one that’s padded and curls around in a half-sphere, also white and with a spinning mechanism like an office chair. There are three beanbags that your mum and dad, when the latter was alive, bought for you, since the boys come over so much and a few of you used to end up on the floor. All of them are black.

You make your way over to the four-seater couch. Leo sits on the left end, you dropping down next to him, and Sid sits next to you. Albert and Byron make their way in next, Byron taking the spot next to Sid, and Albert squishes in next to him. Leo lifts your torso up briefly, while Sid does the same with your legs, before the latter shuffles over. Sid tugs your legs onto his lap, while Leo sits you on his.

Your cheeks swiftly go red, but you’re not opposed to the arrangement in the slightest. Your mum squeals delightedly, and Lucian, watching on silently, smiles a bit. You burrow into Leo’s chest, watching the rest of the guys come in after the front door can be heard to be locked.

Alyn, Louis and Nico head for the beanbags, then drag them over to be in front of the four-seater couch. Alyn is at Leo’s feet, Louis at Sid’s, and Nico at Byron’s. Meanwhile, Giles makes a confident, unhesitant beeline for the seat next to your mum, and Robert sits in the spherical chair after your mum gives him a nod of approval.

“So,” Your mum starts, expression becoming solemn. You notice that she’s leant into Lucian’s side, and that he has his arm tucked around her waist. The sight makes you smile softly. “There’s a situation we need to tell you about.”

You stop her before she can even begin. “Is it about the unrest among the nobility and the threat they’re posing for ICAC agents? Student ones, to be specific?”

She blinks, surprised. Lucian nods. “Yes. I thought you might have been told. Who was it?”

“Mimi Lévesque, Alisanne’s daughter. She was the one who told you, right?” You respond. He grunts.

“Yeah. She called me today and briefed me on the problem, then arranged to work with me, alongside a whole group of Level 4 agents, to get the situation under control. It’s been under investigation for a couple of months now, but not on the scale it has in recent weeks. You wouldn’t have known, since you were away, but if anything, that was a good thing. It meant that you were out of the way of the crossfire while it was getting worse.” He explains.

You listen intently, Leo’s hands clasped around yours, and then speak once he’s done. “Mimi said I should avoid getting involved with the investigation, to reduce the chances of being targeted even more.” He nods, expression telling you that’s what he wants you to do. Your mum does the same.

“Yes. We want you to, simply, carry on as if nothing’s happening. That’s excluding being more careful and taking precautionary measures to keep you safe, of course, but we mean that you just need to focus on yourself and getting through the next few months with as little issue as possible. Okay?” You nod firmly. You understand the reasoning, and you can do that; you’ve got more than enough to handle, with your relationship and your last year of college.

“Yeah. I can do that.” Something’s been eating at your mind for a few hours now, and you decide to ask it while it’s relevant to the topic. “But, this seems similar to what happened with dad.”

You send Byron, Albert and then Nico apologetic looks, returning your gaze to your mum and Lucian afterward. “The Wagner Conglomerate was being investigated for criminal activity, and dad was one of the main agents investigating it. They went after him and killed him. Doesn’t that mean it’s likely all these organisations might do the same? If they’re dealing with criminals, there’s no reason to believe they’re going to try to avoid the courts legally.”

Lucian sighs. Your mum winces.

“Yes,” The former breathes out, choosing his words carefully. “In theory. However, we’ve learnt our lessons since then; we won’t be caught out by anything they try, and we won’t be careless in the slightest this time. We weren’t cautious enough with your dad, and he suffered for it. It won’t happen again, with any of our agents. I’ll see to that myself, ___, I promise.”

You weren’t even thinking about how your dad died because of mistakes, but hearing him speak like that, you realise that your dad’s death still haunts Lucian. It was his level of agents who gave him that information, the information which got him killed right in front of you. It still hurts him, although it  _really_ hurts you as well, to think about it.

“I trust you, Lucian. I know. I just meant that the agents investigating it need to be extra careful, in case it does turn violent and aggressive.” You say, feeling Sid squeeze your knees and Leo your hands, silently comforting you. You return Leo’s squeeze. “So, there’s not really anything that needs to be discussed about this; I’ve already made a routine with the guys to make sure all of us stay in pairs or bigger groups when travelling in college, and have sorted it out so that we can help each other outside of college as well. From that perspective, we’re covered.”

Lucian shakes his head. “While that’s comforting, you’re not right. There’s more measures I want you to take, as both your mentor and your family.” Your heart warms a little at that, and you see your mum beam at him as well, although you narrow your eyes at the term ‘extra measures’. “You have several people in college who may already be threats to you, yes? I believe their names are Adalicia Sauvage and Saber Boucher?”

You huff, anger rising briefly in your heart. You force it back down. “Yeah. They’re in a sort of… opposing group to ours. They don’t like us very much at all.”

He exhales, seeming to make up his mind. He removes his arm from your mum, reaching over the arm of the couch for a second. Then, he straightens up. You see the object in his hand as soon as he does.

You groan loudly, burying your face in Leo’s throat before moaning, “Lucian, no. I refuse. I am not doing this.”

He doesn’t care, apparently. “You are. You can’t refuse; every vulnerable agent is being issued with one. You don’t have a choice, and I wouldn’t let you go without one anyway.”

“But it’s… gah!” You cling to Leo now, whimpering, “It makes me feel like I’m back in training again! And it’s an invasion of privacy!”

“It’s not.” You hear him approaching you. You grimace, hearing the authoritative, steely thread of command laced in his voice and feeling the power in it whipping out at your will, lashing it into submission. “Get up. I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t necessary, ___. Just get on with it.”

“Oh, screw you…” You mutter, reluctantly letting go of Leo. You throw yourself up, facing the comparatively tall man and holding your hand out. He drops the said item into your palm, to which you scowl at him. “I am not forgiving you for this. I’m going to get so much stick in college for it, and the other agents, too.”

He shrugs. “It’s that, or you go in there without a major layer of protection. We won’t risk it.”

You glare now, but you say nothing. Sid is the one who speaks next. “Okay, do you guys fancy telling us what the hell that is, and why ___’s acting like she’s three because it’s in the room?”

You sigh heavily, walking over to the coffee table and sitting down on it, now able to see and speak to all the boys at once. You hold up the item in both hands, one part of it in each.

“This,” You drawl out, tone bitter. “Is a butterfly.”

The item is an accessory produced by the ICAC, in essence for both agents in training and for full-time agents. In body, it’s a black choker with a decoration in the centre. There a “gem” inset with four “diamonds” on each corner of it, and then a strip coming down from this, which is attached to the choker and secures it to the material. There are what look like four wings, all white, and the choker itself is black. That’s the first part of it.

The plot twist is that the supposed gem is a camera, and the diamonds are actually flashes and light sensors to aid with dark situations, with one being a microphone as well.

The second part starts with the inside of the choker. There resides a tiny little compartment, concealing a ridiculous amount of technology. Two thin wires run from this and are fixed very meticulously to the choker, running around to the edges, where the wires then separate and hang down on either side, considerably long. At each end of the wires are two sleek earphones, crafted so that they secure in one’s ear upside-down, a flexible cuff hanging down from them to curl behind the ears. This can be bent to fit around the user’s ear shape, keeping it in place.

There are two types of butterflies; the more secure ones, and the less secure ones.

The less secure ones lack a feature the more secure ones do. The latter have an attachment at the end of the flexible cuff, allowing an earring to pass through it, in essence fixing the earphones to one’s ears more tightly. You have the more secure one in your hands, since your mum had your ears pierced a few years ago, half for this very purpose.

A butterfly is, simply, a hidden camera, concealed in a seemingly innocent choker. It’s also a communications device, hence the microphone and earphones. One wears it, and while doing so, can either just record anything happening to them, can stream what is happening to the ICAC servers, where the mentors will be able to see what’s happening, or can stream an emergency broadcast, in which the mentors designated to the agent will be shown the stream on all of their devices, forcing them to see what’s happening to said agent.

At any time, as long as the butterfly is on, although not necessarily recoding, they can patch into that specific butterfly’s broadcast frequency, allowing them to speak to the agent and vice versa.

The butterflies also have some of the smallest but most powerful batteries in the world, something the ICAC have been pouring funding into for years straight, for this sole purpose. They last for roundabouts sixteen hours after a full charge, at which point they can just be plugged in and recharged. They use the same storage technology as those in 3.0 USB hard drives, which can now hold up to 128 gigabytes of space, and have this ridiculously small hard drive fixed in the compartment against the back of the decoration. Of course, the compartment also contains the network card which allows streaming to happen, and is made of material that remains strong but doesn’t insulate the heat inside, instead letting air out through small gaps created when it’s moulded.

The wings act both as shields for this precious technology, and as button each; the upper-left starts a normal recording, the upper-right starts a streamed recording, the lower-left starts the emergency broadcast, and the lower right has several purposes.

Pressing it once will turn on the microphone without starting a recording, pressing it twice quickly will upload any locally stored footage to the servers, then delete it, to restore storage space, holding it down for two seconds will manually turn the flash on, if the sensors are failing to work or if the flash is needed in somewhat light conditions.

Holding it for three seconds will switch the audio channel between the butterfly’s designated mentor, meaning Lucian in your case, and all of the emergency channels connected to it. Holding it for four seconds will either turn the butterfly on or off.

You explain all of this, briefly, to the boys, pointing and demonstrating as you go. By the time you’re done, you look like you’ve run a marathon, breathless and panting from the long-winded explanation.

It’s silent afterward for several seconds.

“You can’t be serious.” Albert is the first to speak, voice incredulous. “It’s impossible. Technology like that doesn’t exist.”

Lucian levels him with a flat stare. “It does. Search for the world’s smallest hard drive, or network card, if you don’t believe us. Both of them can be found in very small 3.0 USBs now, and if you take away the USB part and instead wire the hard drive with the network card, as well as some extra bits and bobs to get it working, that’s all you need. Add in the microphone technology, which again isn’t that hard when you take away all the mundane things added to everyday microphones to make them look appealing, and you have this.”

He turns his stare on you now. You glare again, but he takes no notice. “Put it on, and use it. I want to see that you can.”

You make a face, but you do as he says. Shoving your hair out of the way and up with your usual accessory, you put the choker around your neck, clasping the ends, and then sealing them together securely with the metal plates on either side. It sits against your throat comfortably, although you can feel the compartment against the front of your neck, cool at first but then warm with your body heat. You bring the earphones up from the back, then over your ears, and put them in.

Done with this, you remove the default butterfly earring that’s already fastened in one of the ear cuffs, fitting the flexible part to your ear shape, before pushing the earring through your piercing and into the cuff. You do the same with the other, feeling them settling comfortably into place.

Then, you hold down the lower-left wing for three seconds. You feel the very slight thrum of the technology powering up, and then it disappears, leaving you feeling like normal.

You send Lucian a sarcastic smile. “Happy?”

He raises an eyebrow. “No. Show me all its functions and name them as you go.”

You moan again. “This is so stupid.”

Pressing the upper-left button, you fake an advertising voice, chirping, “This upper-left button just started a recording of me talking about it starting a recording, but won’t broadcast it to the ICAC servers.” You press the upper-right one. “Now, everything I’m saying is being broadcast to the ICAC servers. To anyone listening in, this is Lucian’s fault.” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you really going to make me start an emergency one?”

He nods. “Yes. The other mentors assigned to you know you’re doing this, so they won’t respond.”

You click your teeth together, agitated. “Wonderful.” Now, you press the lower-left button, snapping, “Now, Lucian and probably about three other mentors in the ICAC are being forced to listen to me talk about the butterfly forcing them to watch me. We can see this right now with Lucian’s phone.”

You gesture to Lucian, whose phone has started to vibrate violently. He pulls it out, showing the boys it unlocking and automatically opening an app they’ve never seen before. He uses his fingerprint to sign in, and then a feed opens up, showing the view in front of your camera, the interface now red and an alert flashing at the top to indicate that it’s an emergency.

Th boys are, to say the least, impressed, and to some extent awed.

They spend maybe fifteen minutes fawning over the incredible technology, testing you being in your room and speaking to Lucian, who goes outside and down the road, then eventually further away, without it impacting on your ability to hear each other because of the ICAC servers conducting the call.

Finally, when they’re over the hype, Lucian comes back, locking the door behind him and stepping up to you. “I want you to wear that at all times. Obviously, you can’t when in water, but just put it on whenever you come away from it and are dry. It doesn’t need to be turned on, but just there.”

You rub your head, sighing out, “Even while I’m asleep?”

He contemplates this for a few seconds. Then, he shakes his head, answering, “No. You shouldn’t be at risk while here, with us in the house, as well as Xander and Tobias when they arrive. That’s for now; if things get worse, you will need it on at all times.”

Seeing your now tired, stressed expression, and your frustration, he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder, voice gentling. “It’s for your own safety, ___. You know we’ll never turn it on remotely unless it’s absolutely necessary, meaning we genuinely fear for your life. Other than in that scenario, you’re in control.”

You hate this. You don’t really have a problem with wearing it per se, but more the fact that you’re in such a bad position that you  _need_  to wear it that’s the issue. “Yeah, I know.”

Your mum can sense that you’re frazzling out with stress and frustration, and comes over now, cupping your face in her hands. “Why don’t you go upstairs with the boys and relax? You’ve had a stressful day. We only needed to speak to you about that, so you can go up. Okay? I’ll make dinner in a bit.”

You nod gratefully; relaxing with the guys is exactly what you need right now. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“One last thing, ___.” Lucian catches your arm, tugging you back into the living room.

He reaches into his bag, on the floor behind the arm of the chair, before producing a material holster of sorts, quite short width-wise but long height-wise, with a strap connected to either end. Your expression shifts into complete confusion, then apprehension.

Inside the three pockets are knives.

“I know this might seem extreme, but I don’t doubt that you might be attacked I college, if the worst comes to the worst. Wear this as well as your butterfly; you’re allowed on the basis that you only use it for self-defence, but aren’t a Level Four agent, and so can’t carry a gun on you.” He instructs, offering the holster to you.

Nervousness consumes you; to have a camera on you is one thing, but take knives into college?

He doesn’t react to your obvious reluctance, continuing, “Wear it on either your thigh or your leg, under your boots, but over your socks. You need to be able to pull the knives out at any time, but we don’t want anyone to see them, so under your boot is probably better. However, it’ll be harder to reach there, so it’s up to you.”

“Lucian, I don’t-” He doesn’t let you finish, moving in closer to take your hand, then press the holster against your palm.

“___, all the vulnerable agents will be wearing them. Don’t let yourself be caught unarmed in an attack. For all of us, for everyone who loves you, take them. Give yourself a chance to defend yourself. If you’re threatened, you have the permission to use them.” He gives you a look that tells you he’s not ecstatic about this either. “I’ve brought a training board from headquarters here, so you can practice using them in hand-to-hand and throwing. Now, are you going to put this on, or am I?”

You swallow hard. You don’t actually know which is worse.

You take the holster hesitantly, noting silently how light it is, even with the knives inside. There are covers at the top, you see, which can be clasped down to hide the knives, and you close them all before you even consider putting it on. Now, it’s not immediately obvious that it holds knives, which is a relief.

You imagine having to pull one out, with them on your thigh, then with them under your boot. The latter is too risky; it takes too much time.

“Okay…” You breathe out, fingers starting to shake just a little with nervousness. The boys have come back into the room now, and are watching on tensely, just as unhappy about you being armed while in college. Lucian steps back, crossing his arms again.

“You don’t have to put it on right now. Try it just to get used to it at some point tonight, but your mother is right. You need to relax.” He advises, tone softer again.

He understands that this is hard for you, and that you hate being weaponised like this; it’s like being on an ICAC job that never ends. The subconscious stress it triggers is immense.

You fiddle with the holster, eyes downcast, before you nod mutely. Thoughts churning with negative emotions, you turn around, slipping past your mum and then the boys.

Whether it’s stress or tiredness or just you in general, you’re struggling to come to grips with this. It’s unsettling you, and deeply so. You want nothing more than to go back in time to when you were in Stein. Your life has become so complicated in the course of a day.

You go up to your room, the boys following closely. You also hear your mum sigh shakily, and Lucian murmur something, sounding remorseful. Once you’re inside, you go over to your bed, turning around and leaning against it for a moment. Then, eyes dull and exhausted, you slide to the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you with the holster settled in your hands.

When the boys come in, despair washes through them all at your obvious suffering. They move to you immediately, none of them sitting on any of the furniture, instead gathering around you on the floor. Sat around you in a half-moon, from left to right, there’s Albert, Byron, Nico, Robert, Giles, Sid, Louis, Alyn and Leo.

“Sorry.” Your apology comes out mumbled, weak and ringing with tension. You stare down at the holster, willing it and this whole problem to disappear. “I’m having a rough day, and I’m not really coping very well.”

“___,” Leo breathes out, cradling your face in his warm hands. “Why are you apologising? We understand; any of us would react in the same way. They’re basically putting a collar on you and forcing you to be constantly ready for a fight with someone. That’s not something little. I’d be amazed if you weren’t upset.”

You don’t look at him. You can still feel the heavy emotional weight from the note earlier, and the crushing presence of the threat against you. But now you’re plagued by guilt, at being so miserable in front of them all. You can’t bring yourself to witness how awful you must be making them feel. The kindness he speaks with only serves to worsen it.

Feeling your throat thickening, you swallow again, sucking in a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess so.” You position the holster against the outside of your stronger leg, bringing the straps around your thigh with trembling fingers.

It nearly ruins the boys. It’s devastating, watching you try to put it on, barely holding it together.

They all move at the same time, to stop you. Leo, the closest, gets there first.

His hands settle around your own, preventing them from clasping the holster around your thigh. He coaxes your hands down and away, taking it and handing it to Alyn. The latter wastes no time in chucking it onto the couch.

Leo leans in inches away from you, resting his forehead against yours to whisper, “___, Baby, stop. You’re pushing yourself, too hard and too far. You’re ready to break; come on. Let us help you and take care of you. Just spend tonight relaxing, okay? You’re stressed and upset, as you should be after today, so you don’t need to do this now.”

You want it. You want to let them help you. You want to just focus on them.

You squeeze your eyes shut against the advancing threat of tears, managing to whisper, voice choked, “I know. I don’t want to do it.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Then you won’t do it.” He glances around the boys, unbeknownst to you. “Come on, let’s get comfy. I say we watch a film or play some games. What do we think?”

Nico nods fiercely. “I agree with watching a film.”

Sid grunts. “I say film.”

Byron hums. “A film.”

The others unanimously choose a film as well. Leo scoops you up when the decision is made, and the boys blur into action without needing to communicate to one another. Robert, Giles, Alyn and Albert move the sofa bed and chairs, as well as the beanbags, over, so that if you don’t all want to sit on the bed, there’s other places to stay. Nico, Byron, Sid and Louis start to choose a film on Netflix, while Leo carries you to your bed, where he lays you down, taking your blazer when you shrug it off.

He hangs it up, then sheds his own, draping it over the back of the couch. The others do the same, taking their shoes off, and Leo repeats his actions with your shoes when you remove them.

Not too long later, Leo is hopping onto the bed, lying down on your right. Sid hops on, on your left, and Nico drapes himself back, so that he’s atop your legs with his head on your stomach. You warn him that he won’t be able to see like that, but he just winks. Byron sits down on the sofa bed with Albert, and Alyn lies sideward-on at the bottom of the bed. Louis drops down rather gracefully onto one of the beanbags, and Giles and Robert take the two other chairs, settling in them comfortably.

Of course,  _of course_ , they put on  _Twilight: Eclipse_ , claiming that the love triangle is something you all just have to watch again considering the new circumstances.

And, of course, Sid, Leo, Albert and Alyn commentate practically the whole way through, making snide remarks, jokes or innuendos about the – to them – questionable logic and plotline of the series.

You’re not really listening, though. You’re hardly paying attention to the film at all.

No, you’re too busy focusing on the butterfly, and on your thoughts of the note, and of your future, the threats, the ICAC, the knives…

Your gaze becomes distant as you think. It’s not something that Leo and Sid fail to notice, even with their running commentary.

When the others are engaged with the film, all now debating the biological possibility of rock-hard-but-sparkly vampires, they both shift, turning to face you. You remain propped back against the pillows and facing forward, deep in thought. You don’t notice, too distracted to, until Leo finally reaches up, brushing his fingers over the flesh under your eyes.

You jerk back into reality, eyes snapping to his face. Your head swivels around, confusion dominating your expression. You see that there’s a wistful smile on Leo’s face, something close to sorrow, something almost forlorn, swirling in his gaze. “Leo? What’s wrong?”

It’s almost like he suffers more at your words, whispering very softly, “You know I hate to see our princess cry.”

_Cry?_

Your hand flies up, fingers touching your other cheek.

Tears. You’ve been crying, and you haven’t even realised it.

“What…” Your incredulous murmur clearly expresses your bafflement, face twisting with guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realise.”

Sid speaks now, lying on his side behind you, since you’ve turned to face Leo by this point. He props himself up, an elbow on the pillow under him, before his other hand descends on your cheek. He rubs the moisture away tenderly, a bitterly frustrated look in his eyes. “You’ve got to be the only person I know who’d apologise for crying.” He pauses. “Actually, Lou-Lou would as well, but that’s beside the point.”

Leo hasn’t stopped gazing down at you this whole time. Now, he shuffles closer, his free hand settling on your waist. You feel so warm, heat radiating out from where they’re both touching you, but it’s a good thing. It makes you feel loved, safe and at peace, knowing they’re there with you. This only intensifies when Sid’s hand slides under Leo’s, coming to a halt atop your stomach, firm and just as hot through your shirt. You can’t look away from Leo, captivated by his intense stare, even though there’s such sadness within it.

“Princess,” He utters, concern seeping into his usually cool, calm tone. “You’re hiding things from us. Please, don’t do that. Don’t shut us out.”

Your heart aches.

“I’m not.” You force the lie out before you lose your nerve and pour your real feelings out, even though it agonises you to do so. “I’m not hiding anything. I’ve just been acting weird because of everything that’s happened.”

A strange look passes through his eyes. He traces his fingers over each of your ribs, the touch full of love and care, just like a pianist would with the keys of their beloved instrument; treasuring and cherishing, touch delicate with affection and adoration. “I’m never wrong, Princess. I know you. I know when you’re hurting and when you’re lying. I can see it in you; you’re keeping something from us.”

_I hate whoever wrote that note. I despise them, truly. If it was Adalicia or Saber, I hate them even more._

You swallow hard, trying not to burst into tears in front of them all. The next words that come bury themselves, embedding painfully, deeply, in your heart, piercing just like the knives sitting on your desk would. “There’s a first time for everything, Leo.”

Leo stills, fingers freezing against your side.

At the same time, Sid leans down, pressing himself up against your back and murmuring into the shell of your ear, “As much as I appreciate your sassiness most of the time, Princess, we really don’t need it right now. Look at me.”

Your head turns, eyes finding his obediently. You observe while you move it that the others are still focused on the film, chattering away in a now somewhat heated discussion, mainly between Alyn and Albert. Sid drops his forehead against yours, beautiful, fiery indigo eyes almost scorching when they meet yours. Even stronger guilt sweeps through you, and your already crumbling composure falters further a result. Sid frowns deeply, index finger and thumb taking hold of your chin gently.

“You told us that this whole relationship depends on all of us being able to be honest, with everyone. This works only if we talk to each other. Right?” You nod wordlessly, feeling worse and worse by the second. His scowl lessens slightly. “So, whatever you need to say, say it. Whatever happened that we don’t know about, tell us. Stop trying to take on the world on your own.”

_I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry, both of you. This just isn’t important enough. It’s a threat letter. It’s just a stupid noble’s kid looking to scare me._

But, you won’t be able to avoid telling them if you lie again, so you decide to tell the truth instead. Just… a different truth to what they want.

“I…” You press your face into the pillow, closing your eyes. You can feel them, inches from you, hovering there so that they can make out what you’re saying.

“I’m just really shaken up by the whole thing. I thought it’d wear off after a few hours, but it’s not. I’m…” You have to fight your own will to admit it, pride and instinctual defences begging for you to keep your real feelings  a secret. “I’m scared. I’m terrified, and I can’t stop myself from feeling like this. I’ve been on edge all day, and I’ve just gotten more and more upset, now that I’m collared by the butterfly and have to go into college armed. I just hate it, and I… I…”

Your fingers curl into tight fists in your covers. You can feel the tears pouring out now, dampening your pillow. Your voice breaks, choked by the emotions you’ve silenced all day.

“I don’t want this to be happening, not now. I want to feel loved. I don’t mean that in a stupid way; I know I’m loved, of course. I just want… I want you guys close, like this. I want to feel you here with me, and want to forget about all of these problems and just have more time with you all. I want normality. I want to be able to focus on how much I love you all and how much you love me. I don’t want the next few months to be spent anxious and paranoid over a threat I,  _we_ , can’t conclusively see or identify. I don’t want it… I just don’t-“

You’re almost crying properly now. Aware of this, and not wanting the others to catch on, they both use their bodies to shield yours. Leo hides your front with his form, and Sid does the same with your back using his own.

Leo moves his hand on your waist to instead cradle your face, his other arm sliding under your head to make a pillow for you. Sid’s hand rubs your stomach soothingly, and Leo lowers his face, resting his lips against your forehead. He kisses the skin softly, lovingly, and the tenderness of the touch only makes more tears come.

“We’re here, Princess.” He breathes, kissing across your forehead to your temple. “We’re here, and we love you more than you could ever know.”

You can’t stop your tears, but the kisses calm you, settling your erratic emotions and nerves slightly. Your fingers fist in his shirt, clinging onto him. He dusts a trail of feather-light kisses down your cheek, then to your jaw, before he circles back up to your nose and forehead. At the same time, Sid presses his own lips to the space in front of your ear, spreading warmth through your flesh like molten rock.

You feel briefly concerned about the others seeing this, since you’re breaking at least one of the rules right now. However, upon glancing at them, you see that they’re all intently focused on their discussion. Nico has sat up by this point, meaning that you, Sid and Leo are almost separate from them, isolated in a tiny little world of emotion and comfort at the back of the bed.

Sid’s mouth descends, curling around the curve of your jaw to your throat. The sensation of both of them kissing you, in a way that’s undeniably, blatantly intimate and way past the point of reserved, is thrilling. It’s something that feels so, so right, perfect and sensual but still not encroaching on that dangerous line, where things start to become sexual. Your eyes flutter closed, other hand drifting down to settle atop Sid’s, on your stomach. He lavishes the space under your jaw with deeper, harder kisses, while Leo paints his own, gentler ones across your cheekbones.

_I want this. I want their touch. I want their love. I just want to be happy, with them._

Just like they promise, they give you what you need. They barely stop, barely pause, in their kisses, right up until the film finishes. Even then, just before the credits roll, Leo captures your mouth in a long, slow, heart-wrenching kiss, and Sid does the same. They can handle it. They’re two of the group members who can bear to see others touch you, as long as they can, at some point, be a part of said contact.

The other guys all stretch when it’s over in some way or another, Nico, Giles and Robert busy laughing over some sarcastic comment Alyn made. They all turn to you, dubious or questioning looks cast when they see how the three of you are laying. Nico blinks. “___, are you okay? Actually, are you both okay as well? You’ve all been really quiet for ages.”

You smile tiredly, nodding. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just a bit tired.”

Leo sits up, keeping his arm under your neck. “We were just talking.”

That earns nods from them all, albeit several don’t quite seem convinced. You force yourself to sit up after a moment, a thought occurring to you. Your lips turn up in a more genuine smile, granted somewhat weak. Your eyes move to Sid. “I forgot – I had an idea earlier, because of what you said this morning. I was supposed to talk to you all about it.”

He smirks slightly. “Well, we’re all here. Now’s the time.”

You nod, looking around the guys.

“Okay. Basically, this morning, Sid gave me an idea that might make this whole thing easier on you guys. He called me a different nickname to ‘Princess’, since he said it gave him a sense of having some sort of unique way to refer to me, as opposed to ‘Princess’, which you all use. So, I thought it might be nice, if you want to, to all have a unique nickname for me, each of them different. It’s just a suggestion, since I want to make this painless as possible, and I know you all must suffer because of this arrangement at least a bit.” You explain, tone betraying quilt at the end.

Leo’s hand finds your lower spine, massaging the vertebrae soothingly. “___, don’t blame yourself, okay? We chose this. You have nothing to feel bad for.” He reminds you. You nod, since what he says is true, despite the fact that you can’t quite shake the guilt off. Byron does the same from his seat.

“I think it’s an extremely wise idea. It’s something we use a lot, even if that is just when we’re out of public view, so a unique nickname would definitely give us a sense of separation and identity in the relationship.” His calm eyes roll to Sid. “What was the nickname you used? I think it is only fair that you get to choose first, since you are the reason the idea was generated.”

Sid’s smirk becomes smug now. He lies back lazily, drawling, “Love.”

It’s silent for a moment.

Then, of all people, Alyn bursts into howling, boyish laughter.

All of you unanimously stare at him, taken aback by the uncharacteristic action. He hunches over, sitting with his legs crossed at the bottom of the bed, before slapping at his thigh. You start to wonder if he’s whacked his head during the day and you haven’t noticed. “Alyn?”

“He- he-” Another cry of laughter, “I was certain it’d be something asshole-y, since he’s an asshole, but instead he comes out with that. It’s so sappy. I can’t fuckin’ breathe.”

So, apparently, Sid’s word of choice has violently tickled Alyn. Said male glares at him heatedly, snapping, “It’s pretty much the most common term of endearment you can get, dickhead. Is it really worth laughing over?”

Alyn stifles his chortles now, managing to glare at Sid even through his smile. “Yep. Trust me, that’s not something I’m letting you live down.”

Sid scowls. “Do what you want, shorty. I don’t give a shit.”

Before they can get into another fierce argument, you step in, speaking over them both. “Okay! So, that’s Sid’s, and no one else can have it. Does anyone have one in particular that they want?”

Immediately, Leo throws his arms around your waist, propping his chin up on your shoulder and singing, “Baby!”

Alyn’s expression goes from amused to disgusted in a microsecond. “That’s perverse.”

Leo gasps, offended. “What? How?”

Alyn scowls. “You’re referring to your girlfriend by using the same word you’d use for an infant. That’s sick.”

Leo frowns back now, retorting, “You do realise there’s actual logic behind it, right? You love a baby. You care for it, want it to be happy, protect it and nourish it. You adore a baby and want to keep a baby close to you. That’s the reason why it’s a term of endearment, little brother. I’m not likening her to a baby in the slightest; it’s a way of expressing how much I love her and want to make her happy.”

Alyn doesn’t look impressed, nor convinced, in the slightest. “Whatever.”

“It is his choice, Alyn. He would not dare to mean it in any other way, I am sure. If ___ has an issue with it, I have no doubts that she will raise her concern.” Giles adds, levelling Alyn with a stare that tells him to back off. The latter rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything more.

You exhale slowly, letting Leo tug you back to sit between his legs, cuddling you like a teddy bear. “So, Sid’s is ‘Love’ and Leo’s is ‘Baby’; I don’t have a problem with it.” You glance around them again. “Any more volunteers?”

“I do.” Byron answers, lips graced by a majestic smile. You nod, eyes softening at the sight, and he declares, “I would like mine to be ‘Sweetheart’.”

The way he speaks the word sends your heart into a little flutter, even though it’s already stuttering away at the sensation of Leo’s body curled around yours. Your smile widens, earlier upset now completely forgotten. “Okay. Sid has ‘Love’, Leo has ‘Baby’, Byron has ‘Sweetheart’. Anyone else?”

“Me!” Nico chirps, turning onto his stomach before crawling up to drape himself over your legs. He drops his chin into his palms, beaming up at you. “I want ‘Sweetie’.”

That’s just like him. You can’t help but grin. “You can have it.” He releases a peal of tinkling laughter, to which you just shake your head, moving on without repeating them all. “Next?”

You almost miss Louis speaking, his voice so soft that it’s almost inaudible. “Angel.”

Your heart swells with love and adoration. It seems so fitting for him. “Perfect. Louis gets ‘Angel’.”

Sid snorts, muttering, “He ain’t holy.”

You slap him around the back of the head. “Shush.” Ignoring his muttered curse, you lean back against Leo, enjoying the feeling of his warm arms tucked around your waist. “Moving on.”

Robert is the next to speak, giving you a gorgeous grin. “I would like ‘Treasure’.”

Your eyes glitter at that, warmth rushing through you at the tender way he pronounces the word. “Of course. Robert gets ‘Treasure’. Any more?”

“Indeed.” Giles gives you a marginally impish grin, but his eyes are very much kind, honest and loving. “If I could, I would have ‘Precious’.”

Leo chuckles, all but humming, “Ah, that she is, Giles. Good one.”

You can feel yourself blushing. You try to hide your once-again growing smile. “Okay. ‘Precious’ it is for Giles.” Your eyes touch on the remaining two. “Albert, Alyn, you’re the last two. Do you have something in mind?”

Albert starts to sink back into the couch slightly, flushing more and more by the second, and violently so when everyone turns to him. “I’m not, er, entirely sure.”

Byron retrieves his phone from his pocket, tapping away at it, for the few seconds that Albert tries to come up with something to say. He holds it out to Albert after a moment, saying, “Here are some ideas. See if there’s any you like, or if there’s anything that comes to mind.”

Albert takes it, still blushing. Alyn stands up and goes over, leaning against the back of the couch, while he looks at the phone as well. Albert scrolls through for maybe a minute, before he finally nudges his glasses up, diverting his eyes to the floor. “D-Darling.”

You almost coo at the adorable way he says it, and how shy he is. Restraining yourself for his sake, you nod enthusiastically, eyes shining. “Wonderful.”

It’s now that Alyn turns away from you all, arms crossed, still leant back against the couch. You barely hear him mutter, his ears visibly red, “Sugar.”

Sid snickers. Leo almost chokes on a snort. They share one look, do the same with Nico, and then fall about with their laughter.

“Are you kidding?” Sid all but screams. “That’s way worse than mine, asshat!”

You can practically feel Alyn’s mounting rage from your place across the room. “Shut it.”

Leo almost crushes you, his body convulsing with the aggressiveness of his chortles. “Oh my God. I can’t take him seriously now. Imagine him saying it!”

Nico’s laughs are alternating between the cutest giggles in existence and somewhat disturbing cackles, his body rolling about on top of yours and Leo’s legs. “He’s going to go up to ___, all tough and manly like he always is, stop before her and then…” He trails off for dramatic effect, then erupts into near madness, shrieking, “‘Oi, sugar!’”

Cue the three practically dying from oxygen deprivation.

You slip out of Leo’s arms and out from under Nico while they do, making your way around the couch to Alyn. He looks royally pissed, and you know he’s probably embarrassed, now to the point of it actually upsetting him. So, you step up to him, cautiously wrapping your arms around his middle. You hug him gently, feeling him stiffen and uncross his arms, allowing your head to drop against his chest. “I like it, Alyn. Don’t listen to them; you know how childish they are.”

The others watch, expressions gentle or at the least neutral, as Alyn grunts, reaching down to curl his own arms around you. He presses his face into your hair, hands settled against the small of your spine and the back of your head. “I know.” He mutters, lips and breath warm against your scalp. His voice drops, lowering until only you can hear it. “Screw them. I’ve got three more.”

You blink, pausing for a moment. “You do?”

He nods just slightly. “Yeah.” You can feel him smiling, just slightly, against your hair now, before his lips move to hover above the shell of your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth radiating out from him against your face. “The second and third ones are ‘Silly’ and ‘Dummy’, because you can be a real idiot at times.” You have to grin at that. He does call you those a lot, and with good reason. “And the other one is sort of weird, but… I like it. I don’t know why. It sounds stupid, but it’s funny. I guess that’s why I do.”

“What is it?” You mumble, words muffled by his chest. He tightens his grip on you a bit.

“Pookie.”

You only last three seconds, and then you end up laughing as well, even harder than the others. At the height of your howls, you collapse to the floor, clutching your stomach, tears streaming down your cheeks. Alyn practically metamorphoses into a tomato, glaring at you through his fingers.

The guys never find out why.

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	5. Part V | Escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**2 nd September 2016 | College Year 2**

The next morning, you’re wrenched from sleep. You’re choking.

You’re jerked from your slumber, overwhelmed by the horrific sensation of hands around your throat. Eyes flying open, your body jolts, one hand flying up to your neck. The other lashes out, arcing out from you and straight at whoever is trying to kill you.

But, there’s no one there. When you flip over, onto your back, grasping at your neck, your room is still and silent.

You pant away, baffled, forcing oxygen back onto your lungs with frantic desperation. Your throat is untouched. It’s not sore. You’re alone, and you’re safe.

All is well. Confusion consumes you.

Your heart is hammering inside your chest, battering away at the flesh inside your ribcage. You sit up, body quivering, and collapse back against the headboard. You wrack your brains, searching for why you’re waking up like this. You can’t remember if you dreamt, or had a nightmare, or even remembered something real while you slept. You can’t recall anything.

“What the hell…” You whisper, looking around the almost pitch-black room once more. You still can’t see anything abnormal. You reach to the side, grabbing your phone and peering at the time.

06:37

You drop your face against your knees, keening into them for the loss of your sleep. “No…”

_I usually wake up at ten past seven. I’m half an hour early._

There’s no point trying to go back to sleep, you realise. You almost don’t want to, if that’s the damn awakening you’re going to get.

Sighing with frustration, you throw yourself up. You have a shower, get dressed and gather your things, not in any sort of rush. Even then, you find yourself with breakfast, halfway through eating it, before it’s even seven.

You don’t want to just sit around, waiting for Sid. You’re restless. You want to go. This is what happens when the ICAC get a hold of you and get you used to constantly moving and doing things.

_But, I can’t go on my own. It’s not safe._

You groan softly.

_Plus, today’s the day I’m going to meet Xander and Tobias, my soon-to-be stepbrothers._

You’ll just have to wait, you decide. You bite back your jittery nerves, forcing yourself to remain seated once you’ve sorted your dishes out, dried your hair and gotten your things ready. You stare at the table, thoughts milling from topic to topic gradually.

You’re under constant threat by the nobility. Adalicia and Saber are a problem. The boys are probably at risk, because of their association with you. You need to work with the teachers, who are also ICAC agents, to keep yourself safe.

Mimi is an ally. The other student-agents are also allies. You need to trust the ICAC to deal with the problem, and live normally. You additionally need to let Lucian and you mum know if anything happens in college.

You’re going to have step-brothers soon, and you need to make a good first impression today, when you come home and they arrive. The wedding is going to come around quickly; your mum wants to go dress-shopping in your next half term, in October. You also need to avoid forgetting about college; you’re going to have tests all through the year, do your final exams at the end of the year, and graduate. You’ll no doubt be going to the joint prom and award ceremony held by the academy annually, for that year’s leavers.

You can’t forget about spending time with the boys. You have to divvy up your free blocks wisely, carefully, and distribute it between them all as equally as humanly possible.

You make a face, shaking your head.

_Geez. Since when did my life get so busy and overwhelming? No wonder I’m crying all the time lately._

Your phone buzzes. Grateful for the reprieve from your swiftly darkening whirlwind of thoughts, you open it, peering at the message.

**_Kickass Informant:_ ** _I’m outside_

You immediately feel more at ease, more calm and secure. Sid’s here.

Slinging your keys out from your pocket, and feeling the note from yesterday still in there with an inward cuss, you bounce up from the kitchen island. You all but run through the hallway, bag already across your body, and practically throw the door open, spinning around. You shut it behind you as you step out, then locking it. Sid’s just getting out of his car when you emerge from the house, making your way down the path almost at a jog. He stiffens, body tensing instinctively.

“Hey. You okay? What happened?” He interrogates, frowning. You give him a smile, shaking your head and opening the passenger side door.

“Nothing. I woke up early, so I’ve been sat inside doing nothing. I’m just glad to be doing something.” You slide into the seat and shut the door, he doing the same, before you sigh and sit back. “Please, please, please, let us have a normal day. Let us have boring or annoying lessons with irritating kids and homework that makes us want to cry.”

He watches you dubiously, listening to you request normality from some greater force, but he can’t help his smile. He finally shakes his head, turning the car on once more. “Speak for yourself, Love. I don’t want homework.”

Your heartbeat jumps at the nickname. A beaming smile stretches across your lips, eyes glittering. He ends up grinning, seeing the happiness it provokes in you to hear him call you that.

Sid drives to Louis’ house as usual, picking the blond up, before carrying on to college. Once again, the car park is full, with kids from all years, but more seem to be congregating around the other guys today. Your heart sinks a little, and you feel a twinge of discomfort. You don’t like this, having everyone watching your every move, never giving you all a moment of peace. It’s suffocating.

Regardless, you all get out, making your way over to the guys. The kids separate to let you through, Sid and Louis flanking your sides, and you join the others with a breath of relief. “Hey,” You greet them, receiving greetings from them all in response. “It’s even more crowded today.”

Albert scowls. “This will likely be a frequent occurrence, considering our apparent popularity.”

“Yeah.” Alyn mutters. “And it’s annoying as hell. Let’s go.”

“Agreed.” Giles murmurs. The others express the same feeling, as do you.

Just like yesterday, you all separate out into your separate groups and pairs. Albert, Byron and Nico. Alyn and Leo. Louis and Sid. Giles, yourself and Robert.

You’re about to make your way in together when there’s a louder series of giggles and shouts, from what you can see are a group of year twelves, kids in the year below you. There are girls and boys alike, all participating in the animated discussion.

“Oh my God, you’re actually going to do it?”

“Hell yeah. I’ve been crushing on them for years. Now’s the time – it’s our last year. I at least want to try.”

“Me too. I want to tell her, rather than carrying on watching from the side-lines and regretting it when we leave.”

“I’m joining in, then. I’ve liked him since year eight.”

_Please, don’t be talking about us. Please, please, please, don’t-_

Everything happens very quickly.

The first thing you see is a girl and a boy, darting toward Leo. The girl wraps her arms around his chest, while the guy hook his arm around Leo’s waist. The latter turns, shocked and looking uncomfortable immediately. Another girl sprints up to Byron, grabbing his arm and spinning him around, stopping him in his tracks. A second guy catches Alyn by the arm, the latter having been getting ready to rip the other two students from Leo, and whirls him around to face him.

Finally, a pair of arms lock around your upper body, constricting your arms and trapping them against your sides.

Panic erupts in you immediately. Everything rushes back to you.

Every time you’ve been hurt on a job. When you got shot. When you’ve been in fights in school. When Louis’ father grabbed you. When Mimi hugged you too tightly.

You’ve never felt so sick, so awful and uncomfortable and desperate to scream, in your life.

“I’m in love with you, ___. You probably don’t even know my name, but you saved my life a couple of years ago, when you helped me and my brother get away from my mum. I’ve loved you ever since.”

A male voice. The words are beautiful, but his touch is almost hellish.

A strangled sound escapes you, and he squeezes you harder, murmuring, “Thank you.”

_I can’t just hurt him. I don’t have the right._

Your insides churn. You feel like you’re going to be sick.

_Butterfly._

Your forearm isn’t being pinned against you. You reach up, pressing the top-left wing to start a recording. Your eyes lift.

Alyn has torn his arm away from the guy apparently confessing to him, moving back a cautious distance, and now all but yanks Leo from the grasps of the two students holding him. He throws his twin behind him, guarding him with his body. Albert has shoved himself between the Byron and the girl confessing to him, doing the same as Alyn, glaring down at her.

You squirm, trying to avoid the instincts driving you to flip him over you or break one of his ribs. You drag your arm up, but he just blinks, seeming confused. “___?”

You can’t attack him. It would cause uproar if you used violence against him.

“Hey!” Alyn all but roars now, lurching toward you. Sid lunges at the same time, and Giles dives in as well, all at once. It seems they’ve noticed that you’ve been restrained.

Your body aches to be away from him and back with the people it loves. Desperate but mindful of your strength, you twist, spinning in his arms before ducking out and away from him. The second you step away from him, familiar touches are on you, strong, safer arms shooting out in front of you.

Alyn and Sid urge you back, behind them, while Giles and Robert bolt to your sides, flanking you protectively. Albert moves Byron to the centre of the group, beside you, while Nico joins him in standing around him defensively. Louis coaxes Leo inside the ring of protection, glaring at the students, now on the outside of the circle and not welcome in the slightest.

You’re shaking. You don’t fail to notice that the boys are too, adrenaline-fuelled, from fear or anger or discomfort. Nothing like this has ever happened, to any of you, not so publicly and with so many people. Or, at least, not in the academy, where you wouldn’t expect such casual contact.

“What the hell is wrong with all of you?” Alyn snaps. Several of the students shrink back, shocked by the harshness of his voice and words. “You can’t just go up to people and grab them! Did it ever occur to you that some, if not all of us, might not be comfortable with that?”

One of the female students responds, sounding heartbroken. “But all of you touch each other, all the time! We thought you wouldn’t mind-”

Byron talks over her harshly, power and authority rolling from him like smoke. “Just because you see a sister hug a brother, or a partner to their significant other, that does not give you the automatic right to do the same to any of them.”

Leo picks up now, clearly pissed but also disgusted. “We don’t mind touching each other because we’ve been friends for years. We’re okay with it because we know and trust each other immensely. If you asked us if you could touch us, for a hug or whatever, some of us wouldn’t mind and would let you. Some of us though, even if you asked, would say no. Not all of us are okay with being touched like that, not in the slightest, and so you really shouldn’t be going up to people and grabbing them because you feel like it.”

“Also,” Giles adds sharply, tone very much unamused, his Student Council President side coming out to play. “It is, factually, illegal to touch someone like that, as it would cause fear of harm which amounts to battery if not assault under Wysterian law. We feel no fear from each other because we are comfortable with each other’s contact, but that does not apply universally, not at all. I would advise that you refrain from doing that, so as to not leave yourself so close to possibly breaking a law.”

One of the male students protests now, objecting, “But, I mean, you sit on each other’s knees and all sorts! You pretty much throw each other around in P.E. You can’t really be that sensitive if you don’t mind doing those sorts of things – it makes no sense! It’s ridiculous! What’s the difference?”

Surprisingly, it’s Albert who retorts now, unforgiving and almost cruel in his response. “The difference is that we have given each other permission, and have made it clear that we feel comfortable, with being close to one another like that. Similarly, some of us have actually not done that, and so we don’t all touch each other, as a matter of fact. I would be rather repulsed and would react in a similar manner if the likes of Alyn or Sid were to touch me without very, very good reason.”

Sid rolls his eyes. “While I don’t appreciate being singled out, trust me, I wouldn’t like you touching me either.”

Alyn glares at them both. “I’d flip shit if either of you touched me without a really good reason.”

Albert fixes his glasses, gaze piercing right through the students. They seem to be realising exactly what they’ve done now, seem to be understanding that they had no right to do what they did. They’re inching back one by one, expressions morphing from hurt or anger into sheepishness or shame.

Albert’s tone remains cutting, despite this. “As you can see, our group is not simple. We are not perfect, nor is anything and everything permitted in the slightest. I would suggest you get to grips with that, and swiftly so. Do not make assumptions, and then act on the belief that you are right, when you have no concrete evidence to support those beliefs.”

Even with how awful you feel, your heart clenches, almost singing; he’s getting across everything you want to say, and he’s doing it perfectly.

Robert has been silent up until now, but speaks at long last, a very rare tone showing itself in public for the first time; fury. His eyes seem to smoulder, burning with an intense, livid rage you doubt has ever been seen by anyone other than yourself and the boys.

“And, as someone who has suffered unwanted contact by people throughout his life, a situation many, many people have been in,” You know he means the likes of himself, Louis, Byron and Sid by that; they’ve had unwanted advances on them because of their positions in the nobility more times than you can count. “I do not, in any way, appreciate, nor will I tolerate, being touched so casually. If you wish to touch me, you will ask, and wait until I have told you that I don’t mind you doing so.”

Nico apparently feels like joining in now, no doubt royally angered that someone touched you all like that. “If you just touch someone without considering what it might do to them, you could hurt them. Even if you touched us just now to tell us something important, like your feelings for us, that doesn’t mean it’s okay. If you do, you could make us really upset. Do you really think we’d be able to even respond to your feelings if you’ve hurt us?”

The message is clear. They’ve made a huge, huge mistake. Your group is not as simple as they thought it was.

The bell for lessons starts to ring. Those on the outside of the group start to nudge those inside into movement, and without another word, you all head for form.

On your way to the main building, though, amongst the now whispering, shocked, guilted or even crying students, only two stand out to you. Your eyes lock with theirs on your way inside, and your insides go cold.

Adalicia and Saber, flanked by the other members of their group. The two glare at you, hatred clear in their eyes.

But then, Adalicia smirks. She mouths four words to you.

“Go check your locker.”

The last thing you see is her sadistic, twisted wink, and then you’re inside.

You can barely make the walk up to form.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

By the end of the day, you’re ready to drop.

Your first lesson, Spanish, involved Alyn, Leo and Nico fuming over what happened, and fussing over you incessantly, having seen how panicked being grabbed made you. It took you half an hour to get them to stop asking you if you were okay, and another hour before the lesson finished, at which point you asked them to just stop talking about it.

Now, you’re dreading the next two minutes. You know what’s coming.

You open your locker, standing in such a way that the interior is almost entirely obscured by you, unless someone bends over your head to have a look.

There’s another note, of course. Of  _course_  there is, and you know for definite that it’s Adalicia who wrote it now, or at least someone from her group. You snatch it up in your gloved hand, feeling frustration, bitterness, despair and pain flooding your mind before you even read it.

_“Wow. Seems like you can’t follow simple instructions. You really are completely stupid; must be all the fuckings you take from your boys, killing your brain cells. I doubt you’ve got many left now. You failed to do at least one of the things I told you to do, so until you pick your ass up and get it done, I’m going to make life hell for you. Try to get me in trouble, and you’ll suffer, I promise. Don’t even attempt it; it won’t get you anywhere. All the teachers can do is tell me off, or isolate me at most. They wouldn’t dare do anything harsher, because they know my dad would kick the shit out of them and send this whole academy into the ground if they did. Your precious ICAC can’t do shit, either. They have no jurisdiction here, and they won’t be able to do anything without concrete evidence, so you’re screwed either way._

_Suck it up, be the submissive little bitch you really are, and get out of the fucking spotlight. Leave the ICAC, and the school, and this will stop._

_Also, nice collar. Suits you, of course; they always look good on dogs :)”_

_You bitch. You despicable, disgraceful little-_

“___. Hey.”

_Shit!_

Leo and Sid have opened the locker door fully, and are very, very close to you.

You crush the note, whirling around. Startled, your only word comes out unusually, uncharacteristically sharp and defensive. “What?”

Both of their eyes narrow, and even the others start listening, surprised by your snap. You bite your tongue, trying to blend it as much as possible. “You can’t just hover like that. It’s not exactly subtle; we’re in a public corridor. Plus, why  _are_  you hovering?”

Leo opens his mouth to speak, but Sid beats him to it, throwing back almost painfully bluntly, “Because you’re hiding something, ___. You’re fucking shaking. Don’t insult my intelligence by trying to lie and telling me you look like a leaf because of another reason.”

Oh, he wants to start with an attitude? Fine. You can do the same. Two can play this game.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sid.” You peer into the locker theatrically, using the motion to conceal your hand, stuffing the note in your pocket. Hands now empty, you step out of the way, shoving the door open as wide as it can go. You showcase the locker, empty except for your folder, and challenging sarcastically, “Tell me I’m hiding something again. Go on. You’re welcome to show me what I’m hiding in a locker empty except for a folder.”

You can see the frustration mounting in him. He knows he’s not wrong, and Leo is the same.

The others are tensing, blood draining from their faces, at two things.

Firstly, Sid and Leo are ganging up on you when you’re shaking, something none of them should ever do, to  _anyone_ , in such a state.

Secondly, you’re fighting back in a way that’s hostile, unlike how you would usually try to resolve the situation rationally and peacefully. You’re being defensive, almost as if you feel threatened by them.

Nico’s eyes flicker between you all, expression betraying nervousness for once. “Hey, come on. Let’s all calm down, okay?”

Leo looks like he’s about to explode from frustration, and Sid is no different. The latter shakes his head. “Nah.” He almost growls out.

Then, his arm flies out, gloved hand slamming against the lockers behind you. You barely even jump when he did that, because you ultimately trust him, and know that he’d never hurt you. You know he’d only do something like that when he’s completely desperate.

The boys all shout in alarm, lurching in to tear him away from you, but the burning glare he gives them is intense enough to make them all hesitate. With that window of opportunity, he leans in close to you.

The fact that you barely jumped is what he needed to see. He needed to confirm that you’re not doubting them all.

So, now, he uses that against you.

“If you didn’t trust me, you would have jumped more when I did that. You didn’t. So, what the hell are you hiding that’s so damn important, you can’t tell me? That you’d lie to my face when we both know you’re doing it, and badly?”

_Ouch._

That hurts, a lot.

You scowl, all of the emotions from yesterday and today practically slamming into you like a tsunami. They rip through your confidence and composure, leaving you feeling vulnerable, susceptible and weak. You can’t stand it. It’s unbearable.

And you feel that way because you know he’s right. You should have told him, told them all, about this.

But you won’t just do as he says; you’re letting everyone else protect you right now, and for the foreseeable future, so you’ll keep doing this one thing to protect them, even if it’s a small thing.

They all expect you to answer him verbally, to explain yourself or to insist that he’s wrong. So, when your hand comes up, lashing his away from you and off the locker, they all freeze.

You shove away from him and stalk off down the corridor, hearing the locker being shut and locked behind you. You don’t have any more excuses or explanations. They know you’re hiding something, so you can’t even try to deny it. You just need to go, so they’ll eventually stop trying and drop it.

If only life were that simple.

“___.”

Byron speaks calmly, coolly, despite the chaos ensuing. You don’t look back.

“Stop lying to us, or I’ll terminate this right now.”

Your heart stops, just for a few seconds. Your pace falters, then halts entirely. He couldn’t possibly be serious. You don’t want to believe it; he’ll terminate it? He’s willing to break the relationship, over this? He’s ready to ruin everything you’ve spent months, and technically years, building, for the sake of one little lie?

The agony that burns through your chest is unbearable. It’s like being shot over and over and over again, only deeper, sharper, and so much more intense.

“You can’t expect us to be honest with you about everything, but then villainise us when we try to get you to do the same. You can’t have it both ways.”

_Communication. Compromise. Faith. Honesty. Loyalty. Those are the things that are necessary in order for this to work._

And you’re failing all five.

You’re glad the hallway is empty. You’d hate for the other students, or God forbid Adalicia and Saber, to see your falsely strong expression collapse into stardust and tears.

You can hear Byron close behind you, his footsteps distinct, sure and collected, confident and certain. He stops maybe three inches from your back, murmuring, “Tell us. Show us. Let us in, so that we can help you. Don’t close yourself off to us.”

You couldn’t if you tried, not after this. You could never do this again, now that you realise how hypocritical you’ve been.

Silently, without any other movement, you reach into your pocket. You pull out the two notes, opening them and smoothing them out with trembling fingers. When they’re open, your hand drifts back, offering them to him. He takes it very gently, and the others approach now, having observed you pulling the paper out. They move in close around Byron, peering around each other to read the threatening notes.

Their reactions are obvious. Gasps, growls, snarls, disgusted, snapped words, horrified whispers. You don’t know what to do. Should you just let yourself cry? Keep waiting? Walk away? Do something physically punishing, like doing exercise until your body can’t move anymore?

You don’t get the choice.

A hand slides around your cheek, cradling it, before another does the same. A gentle pressure tips your head back, tilting your face up.

Robert gazes down at you, an infuriated pain aching and swirling through his eyes. But, even despite this, he smiles. He smiles kindly, tenderly, adoringly, like he always does, and when he speaks in a soft, breathy utter, his voice almost brushes his words, feather-light, with the utmost care and love.

“Treasure.” The tears threaten to pour over your eyelids. You press your lips together, gaze dropping to his chest. He shouldn’t speak so kindly to you, shouldn’t address you with a word so affectionate. You just broke your promises and lied to them. “Come. Come with me, just for a little while.”

You can’t even form the words you want. You can only nod.

He removes one hand, the other moving to the small of your back. Saying nothing more, he guides you away from the boys, through the corridor. He doesn’t speak again, simply taking you out of the main building and across the grounds of the academy, over to the dorm building. You don’t object; you don’t need to be home until dinner, so you have another two hours before you’re in trouble.

Even if you got in trouble, you wouldn’t care. You owe the boys, for everything you’ve done.

Not two minutes later, he’s unlocking his dorm room’s door and coaxing you inside, then shutting the door. He doesn’t lock it. You imagine that’s deliberate, so that the others can get in when they catch up.

He escorts you to the centre of the room before he lets go, closing the blinds over so that no one can see inside, but light is still coming in from outside. Then, he returns to you. His expression hasn’t changed at all.

You’re barely holding it together. You don’t  _want_  to hold it together, not now that they know.

He knows this. He sees it, as clear as day, and so he slips his arms around your waist, one hand settling against the back of your head. He presses it against his chest, giving you the protection, the shield and privacy, that he knows you need. As much as you unfortunately cry a fair amount nowadays, you hate it when it happens, and he’s well aware of that. This way, you can cry in his arms, as comfortably as possible.

“Cry, Treasure.”

Your fingers curl into fists against his stomach. There’s no turning back.

He lets you cry to him, wailing and sobbing everything out. The shock and devastation of the threat, from being targeted, from the notes, from the Archduke touching you a week and a half ago, from being hugged and made to panic today… it’s all been building up.

Now that you’re with one of your boys, the guards around your heart have weakened. They always do.

If the boys weren’t there, you would almost certainly never cry.

It’s only when they’re there that you feel like you can, and like you want to, because you know you need it. They tell you to do it when you need to, because otherwise, you deprive yourself of it. Unless you’re instructed, ordered, to let everything out, you’ll force it back and bottle it up inside, because you don’t feel like you have the right to just cry of your own accord.

The only time you’ve ever cried without being able to control or outright stop it was when your dad died.

Through your sobs, you gush out apologies, begging for forgiveness. “I’m sorry… I’m so- so sorry. I didn’t want- to lie. I didn’t want you all… to worry. You’re all already doing so much…” Another wail rips through your chest, violent and aggressive. “Doing so much for me. You’re protecting me. I didn’t want you to- to have to worry- about it-”

“Oh, ___. Princess… Treasure…” He whispers all the nicknames he has for you, lips pressed against your hair hard. “You don’t need to protect us. You already do that so much. We don’t want you to protect us any more than you already do, because we’re at barely any risk. You are. You heard Mimi, ___. You need to protect yourself, and that’s it. You are the only important thing right now.”

He draws back, cupping your face again. You avoid looking at him, knowing you must be a state, but he never looks away from you, not once. There’s never a moment when you’re not beautiful and wonderful to him.

“Those notes are important. You are important. Nothing in your life, nothing at all, is trivial, not to us. Even if you think it is, to us, it’s something. And notes like those, that threaten you, that threaten your life, are things that you should never keep to yourself. If Sid and Leo hadn’t done that, and Byron hadn’t made you show us them, you could have gotten hurt so much worse than what you could be hurt now. Now we know, we can better protect you. We can anticipate what they’re going to do. We can keep you safe.”

You know. You already knew all of this the moment you decided to hide the first note. You just ignored it all.

Fresh tears burst out of you. You nod through them, gasping out, “I know. I knew that. But I just wanted to protect all of you more. I’m sorry.”

He just shakes his head, embracing you again. He exhales into your hair slowly, breathing out, “For all you claim to be selfish, my beautiful treasure, you have a selfless heart. You really, really do.”

The boys arrive at this point, Nico poking his head through the door when he realises it’s open. Robert beckons him in, and they do so swiftly, so they can shut the door and your sobs won’t be heard by anyone.

Once they’re all inside, you hear the door shut, and a fresh wave of guilt sweeps through you. You grip Robert’s blazer hard, the material of your gloves taught with the pressure. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you all to have to deal with that. I thought I was helping and protecting you all.”

They’re not even angry anymore. After reading those notes and realising how much you’ve been trying to deal with, they couldn’t possibly feel anything close to it.

So, Leo simply walks over to you both, coming up behind you. At Robert’s nod, he hugs you from behind, while you continue to cry into the former’s chest. Nico follows, squishing in on your right side. Sid comes to your left. They encase you with their hugs, touching your hair, your back, your arms, your face. They remain there, supporting you and telling you, even if it’s silent, that they’re there.

They love you, and you love them. There’s nothing you should ever hide from them, just like there’s nothing they should hide from you.

You realise that, now. You won’t shield your heart from them anymore. You’ll show them it all.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

You return home once you’re feeling better, and you relay everything to Lucian and your mum, who are already home when you get in.

Naturally, they’re both pretty pissed. Luckily, most of that rage is directed at whoever wrote the notes, as opposed to you, for not telling them yesterday.

You also realise once you tell them about Adalicia’s mouthed words that your butterfly was on while everything went down, and that you might just have caught her in the act. You upload the video to the server, but at this point, Xander and Tobias are due to arrive at any minute, and Lucian decides to look it over later.

You stand in the living room with your mum, rocking back and forth on your feet habitually from nerves. She watches this amusedly for a few moments, then sighs out, “___, you don’t need to be nervous. They’re both nice, honestly.”

You huff. “You know I get nervous around new people. I’m not exactly the type to instantly trust people.”

She laughs softly at that. “No, you’re not. That’s very true.”

You grunt. “They know I’m friends with the guys, right? That’s what you said yesterday.” She nods.

“Yeah. We told them early on when they asked about you, so they’d have time to warm up to the idea.” She winks. “You’ll be fine. They’re lovely, I promise.”

You both pause. The door can be heard, unlocking and then opening, followed by Lucian’s voice. There’s a lower, quieter murmur, then a laugh, one you’ve never heard before. You have to admit, you’re a bit curious now.

“They’re in here. This is the living room.” Lucian says. A second later, he walks in, followed by two boys.

Both are quite tall; you guess they’re both probably six foot, since they seem to be about Byron’s height.

They’re quite similar in body shape, but one is slightly more muscular, as you can see through his black hoodie, somewhat fitted, outlining an obviously strong, athletic body. He wears black skinny jeans as well, with lace-up combat boots. His hair is jet black and cut to frame his angular face, which is to some degree tanned, a lovely, sun-kissed golden hue. His eyes are a stunning electric blue, bright and alive, almost unnaturally so. His expression is blank, but his body language expresses caution and wariness.

The other boy is like a deliberate contrast; his hair is perfectly white instead, and as opposed to the other’s tanned pallor, his is pale, unmarked and smooth like fresh snow. His eyes are exactly like the other boy’s, that same beautiful electric hue. Whereas the first is dressed quite casually, his outfit is a bit more formal; a white shirt under a black vest, with black skinny jeans and pale blue high-top converse. While he appears to be slightly less muscular than the other, it’s still apparent that he’s strong. His body language is much less defensive, warm and open and friendly.

_Wow. They’re both stunning. And non-identical twins, evidently._

Lucian gives you a calm smile, gesturing to the two. “Here they are, at long last. These are my sons.”

The one with white hair gives you a beautiful, sincere smile, eyes somehow softer than the other boy’s despite being the same shade. He steps forward, holding his hand out to you. “Hello. My name is Xander. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

You take his hand, instantly getting the strong sensation that you can trust him despite your statement not thirty seconds ago. You beam back at him, responding while you shake hands gently, “Hello. I’m guessing you’ve been told, but I’m ___. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

He grins. “Of course – I’ve been so excited, waiting to meet you. It’s amazing that I’ve finally got a little sister.”

You tilt your head. “Little?”

The other one smirks just a bit now. You and Xander release each other’s hands, and he takes yours now, his grip firmer than the latter’s. “Yeah. We’re identical twins, and we’re both older than you, even though we’re in the same year, making you our little sister.” He grins now, a wicked one that tells you he’s just like Sid in his demeanour. “Nice to meet you. I’m Tobias, although that was probably obvious anyway.”

You grin back, nodding brightly. “Well, I’ve never had any siblings, so I’m just really happy to have two big brothers now. It’s nice to meet you too!”

_Hang on. Identical?_

You blink, confusion crossing your features momentarily at the sudden realisation, as you let go of Tobias’ hand. “Wait a second. Identical twins?”

Xander chuckles, nudging Tobias with his elbow. “His hair’s naturally white as well, but he dyes it. He has a much darker colour scheme and personality than genetics coded for.”

Tobias scowls at him, nudging him back much harder and more painfully. “Shut it.”

It’s at this point that Lucian claps them both on their shoulders. “Well, we’ve got a lot of stuff to move in. There’s no time to relax today; come on.”

They groan. You can barely suppress your growing smile, feeling warmth coiling inside you.

_I’ve finally got a full, complete family, for the first time in my life. I have my mum and dad. I have two big brothers. I have my boyfriends._

You all but bounce outside to help with moving their stuff in, your good mood practically impenetrable.

Who would have thought that a day which started out with sadness could end in joy?

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**20 th October 2016 | College Year 2**

For the next few weeks, you settle into a rhythm. Life is strange, and you’re still adjusting, but it becomes consistent.

You wake up, get picked up by Sid, go and get Louis, and go to college. There, you’re usually mobbed by students or at least surrounded by them, and go to lessons. You have break and lunch with the boys in the atrium, and then go to one of their places after college, depending on the day and whose turn it is. You usually end up coming home at five, at which point you’ll have dinner, then either head to your room to message the guys, play games (sometimes with them), watch something or revise until you go to bed.

Activity at school remains the same, for the most part. The notes continue, and you keep to record anything that happens, although you now have a plan with Lucian for confronting Adalicia and Saber; you’re going to gather more and more evidence, since you only have relatively light things to throw at her right now, and then you’re going to bring it all together and get her in more severe trouble, to throw off her parents and hopefully stop them from using her as a weapon.

Amidst all of this, you cope well. Every time you get a note, which is usually every day with pretty much the same insults each time, you give it a once-over to make sure there’s nothing suggestive of something serious, recording with your butterfly while you do. Once you have, you let the guys see it. They check it over, then return it so you can give it to Lucian as evidence. Afterward, they don’t speak of it again.

So far, the threats Adalicia has given have been empty. She’s not once done anything like she says she will, and hasn’t made you suffer otherwise.

You remain on guard at all times, though; you imagine she’s just waiting for an opportunity to catch you out.

You’re also starting to get used to having big brothers in the house. Since the boys won’t be starting at the academy until after the half term, you don’t see them during the day, but sometimes Xander will be up in the morning before you leave. You’ll often chat about casual things, like your parents, yourselves or your friends, and you find the conversations very easy, very pleasant and simple. You see Tobias more of an evening, and usually play the likes of  _Call of Duty_  or  _Guitar Hero_  with him of a night-time. He’s fiercely competitive and a bit moody, but he’s nice when he relaxes.

Plus, he’s brilliantly sarcastic and witty, and has on several occasions tickled you when you’ve beaten him, as a punishment.

Today, it’s the last day of college before the half term. You’ve got two things to look forward to: going shopping for your mum’s wedding dress and your maid-of-honour dress (as well as the boys’ suits since they’re coming to the wedding, but they don’t know that yet), and also Halloween, which you’re going to spend in Stein, with the boys.

You’re currently in P.E. and have just finished putting your swimming costume on, since this is the once-every-fortnight swimming lesson you all have now. The pool has been redecorated and overhauled massively over summer, now bigger and with better ventilation systems, but the cameras have yet to be working yet because the electrics are still being wired up.

This doesn’t occur to you in the slightest, not even as you take off your butterfly, then your knife holster, tucking them both in your bag discreetly. You take your things to the more isolated section of lockers, to one you normally use. This is to avoid anyone being likely to find them, should they decide to raid the lockers. Happy they should be safe, you head into the pool.

The class is mixed, which is nice; you get to swim with the boys. Unfortunately, that also means that, because it’s three forms per lesson, you’re in there with Adalicia and Saber’s group as well.

Sighing about this, you wander into the pool room, where most of the students are waiting for the lesson to start; Miss Dupont, your teacher, has to make sure everyone’s changed before starting.

Your costume is sporty as opposed to being more styled, a one-piece with small shorts at the bottom as opposed to a bikini line, and then a pattern curling around your sides and hips in your favourite colour. The rest of it is black, although there’s a hole in the back, right down to the low of your spine.

Only shorts, one-pieces and tankinis are allowed for lessons, fortunately. You can imagine some of the articles people would come in with if bikinis or speedos were allowed.

The boys are already waiting inside, you see, stood near the side of the pool in a neat circle. You smile at them, going over and fixing your hair so it won’t be in the way. You force yourself to breathe, to ward off a blush, when you see them all taking in the sight of you in your costume. They’re not nearly as subtle as they should be, although you’re quite sure you’re the same, with all of their chests and legs exposed, swimming shorts the only thing covering them.

“Hi.” You greet them, coming to a stop between Louis and Alyn. They part to let you stand between them, Louis smiling and Alyn smirking just a bit, while you grin softly. “Who bets it’ll be colder than twenty degrees today?”

“Me.” Leo moans, frowning at the pool. “It’s always so cold.”

Sid pokes him in the side, earning a startled yelp from the Crawford, unprotected ribs exposed to his attack. “You need more muscle. That’ll make you warmer and less of a baby, even though the water’s not actually that cold.”

Leo glowers at him for a brief second, jabbing him back. “I have plenty of muscle, I’ll have you know.” His eyes slide to you, turning impish in a heartbeat. “___,” He almost coos. “Will you come and see how muscly I am so I can prove him wrong?”

While you very much want to accept that offer, you can’t. You shake your head, answering dryly, “If you want to show him how muscly you are, have him feel you up.”

Both of them may as well be about to throw up from the disgust on their faces. Alyn holds his hand up, giving you a high-five.

Sid groans now, muttering, “Watch out, everyone. Miss Dominatrix and her puppy have entered the room.”

You glance at him, seeing him glaring behind you and Alyn. You cast your eyes over your shoulder.

True to his word, Adalicia and Saber are walking through the room, clad in their swimming costumes with the rest of their group. Annoyance rolls through you, as well as a healthy dose of anxiety, but you dismiss it and turn back to the boys. They’re all watching them now, so you sigh, reminding them, “Guys, don’t even look at her. You’re just giving her the attention she wants. Ignore her.”

Sid scoffs. “Gladly. She’s not much to look at.”

“Sid,” Giles chides, but his words somehow don’t sound very convincing. “Don’t be cruel.”

You can hear them walking your way. You internally groan, crossing your arms and tensing your muscles, thinking that they might shove past you. “Brace yourselves.”

You’re right.

A second later, all twelve or so of their group barge straight into you all, almost knocking several of you over right away. Elbows shove into you, arms evidently shoving into your shoulders, arms and sides with intent and force. You stumble to the side, and it’s at this point that you realise something; the guys have been separated from you. They’re all pushing the boys away from you, leaving you isolated further back, near the edge of the pool.

And you can’t see Adalicia or Saber. You’re surrounded by their group.

_Shit._

With a smile that’s pure, unfiltered evil, Adalicia emerges from the chaos her group is causing. Saber stalks through next to her, both making purposeful, relentless beelines straight for you. You scowl, hairs prickling and insides churning. “Adalicia, stop.”

“No.”

Her hand shoots out, gripping your throat shamelessly, even though it’s very possible that one of the other students might see her.

Her fingers dig into your neck, crushing the air out of it, but you can feel her controlling the force, as if she knows she shouldn’t leave any lasting marks. Pain sears through your throat. It aches, muscles and tendons creaking under her assault. Your mind descends into panic. You can’t breathe.

You’re a second away from maiming her when she sneers, just as Saber lurches toward you, “No cameras in here. It’s your word against mine, and we’ve got more numbers. No one else will testify; I’ll make sure of that.”

Saber raises his fist. You try to twist out of the way, but she holds you there, the only place you can move being the pool itself. Fear consumes you. You brace yourself for the pain.

His knuckles slam into your stomach, so hard that you end up doubling over, agony searing and blistering through you like fire. You gasp, choking, winded by more air being forced out of your body. You don’t have time to catch your breath. She lifts her foot, fingers relinquishing their grip on your throat.

Her foot slams into your stomach again. Unable to comprehend anything other than agony and a lack of oxygen, you’re sent flying back, straight into the pool.

“___!”

You sink into the water, body immediately starting to thrash about. You didn’t have any air to begin with, and now you can’t get any at all. Your lungs spasm, but it only serves to send a flood of water into them. Panic floods you. You can barely see a thing, can’t even make a sound because of the water in your lungs. Your arms flail about, trying to get yourself up and to the surface, but it’s such a desperate motion that it’s not doing much at all.

You’re drowning. You can feel it. You’re going to die.

The terror that hits you is debilitating. Even with your thoughts slowing and pain now overwhelming your body, lungs burning and throat constricting, all you can think about it your family. Your mum and Lucian, Xander and Tobias, and the boys.

You’ve just gotten them all, and now you’re going to die. You’re going to lose everything.

That hurts a hell of a lot more than drowning ever could.

Someone dives into the water, their form seeming to shoot straight at you. With your blurred vision, you can barely make out any features, but the russet hair and red shorts are unmistakeable.

_Alyn. My Alyn. My wonderful Alyn-_

Iron-like arms locks around your waist. He kicks up violently, aggressively. You don’t even have the strength to cling onto him.

The second he breaks through the surface, there’s nothing but absolute chaos.

Shouting. Screaming. Panicked cries from students. Infuriated roars from the boys. Snapped retorts from, presumably, the students who separated you all. Miss Dupont, your year’s P.E. teacher, roaring at them, and now Mr. Summers, one of the high school P.E. teachers, calling desperately to Alyn.

You’re coughing and spluttering uncontrollably. Alyn has been swimming to the edge furiously, and as soon as you’re in range, at least four pairs of hands are on you, dragging you out of his arms and onto the side.

Eyes closed, you choke and hack up disturbing amounts of water, heaving them out of your lungs and gasping desperately for air. You’re moved onto your side, immediately finding that the water comes up easier and quicker in this position. Hands keep your hair pulled back, others holding your arms, others your side, another pair wrapped around your own hands.

You can’t think. You can barely hear what’s going on. You can’t even move.

“I tripped and fell into her, okay? I’m sorry! The side’s slippery – that’s the academy’s fault, not mine!”

“Like  _hell_  you tripped, Adalicia! We are already well aware of your history of violence with other students, and ___ in particular! There hasn’t been a class yet; the side is completely dry, except now for where ___ has just been dragged out of the water!”

_Miss Dupont. She sounds angry._

“She pushed her in! I saw it!” Another student, unrelated to either group, shouts somewhere close by. “And Saber punched her!”

“No I fucking didn’t!” Saber growls back.

There’s an uproar from the other students now, the exact ones Adalicia seemed so sure wouldn’t speak out against her.

“She didn’t even try and hide it! She kicked her!”

“They had it planned!”

“She’s been after ___ the whole time we’ve been back in college!”

Adalicia’s next words are irrefutably livid. “Shut up! You’re all lying! I haven’t done shit to her!”

Amidst all of this, your lungs now feel relatively empty, although not devoid of air, thankfully. You heave in breaths, collapsed against the tile floor, the boys all around you. Eyes squeezed shut, you can hear them talking to you, to each other, and a few of them  _at_  Adalicia and Saber.

That would be Albert, Byron and Sid, you notice. They sound royally angered.

Another mouthful of water makes its way up your throat. You cough it up, feeling a warm hand rubbing your back. A towel is draped over you, warding off the chill of the air on your now-damp skin. There’s footsteps, and then Mr. Summer’s voice, low and serious and leaving no room for argument.

“We need to move her out, or things are never going to settle down and we won’t be able to properly make sure she’s okay.” There are several protests from the boys, claiming that you need more time to recover, but you agree with him. You need to get out of the way. You don’t want to be carried; it’ll only make you seem even weaker than you already look now.

Muscles trembling, you try to push yourself up, managing to raise your torso up just a bit. “He’s right.” Your voice is raspy and hoarse when you speak, barely audible over the shouting. “I can walk.”

You try to sit up, thinking you’re okay to. You’re barely even at a forty-five degree when weakness surges through your muscles, and your arms give out under you. You’re caught before you hit the floor, at least six hands shooting out to prevent you from falling, cradling your arms, shoulders, head and waist.

“Like hell you can walk.” Alyn snaps, but you know he’s not angry at you. He’s angry at the situation, at how close you just came to dying, in a place where you should be safe. It’s fundamentally wrong, and has thrown out everything you all thought about your safety in college. His voice drops, so quiet that only you can hear it. “Come here, Sugar.”

He curls his arms under you, surprisingly gently considering his obvious frustration. He cradles your upper body and thighs, lifting you up and against his chest in the princess carry, before he stands and shifts you against him tighter. You can feel him trembling, muscles quivering against you.

You wonder if that’s from fear or rage. Maybe it’s from both.

Your head flops limply against his shoulder, body feeling more and more lethargic by the second. He presses a very quick kiss to your temple, and then you feel him turn. You hide your face in his neck.

“She needs to be taken to hospital. She swallowed a lot of water – she has to be checked for water inhalation.” Mr. Summers murmurs. Miss Dupont is still giving Adalicia and Saber a brutal verbal lashing, but the noise is just making your already pounding head hurt more, a headache now forming behind your eyes swiftly. You cough weakly, croaking out,

“I want to get changed. Please.” You can feel Alyn glaring at you, but he doesn’t outright say no. After a moment, he sighs sharply.

“Fine.” There’s a slight pause. “I’m going to take her to the changing rooms, and then I’ll bring her out.”

“Good. I’ll wait outside.” Mr. Summers responds. Immediately, Alyn is walking, moving at a brisk pace through the room. Eyes still closed, you can hear the others following him, remaining close. Footsteps move around you and Alyn, heading in front of you, while Leo calls,

“I’ll get her locker open! It’s the one in the corner, right?”

You’re guessing that’s a question for you. You nod into Alyn’s neck as much as you can, and he shouts back, “Yeah!”

A minute later, you’re set down on what feels like the floor. Eyes opening drearily, you see that you’re in one of the cubicles in the girls’ changing rooms, and that you’re on the ground, now leant back against the wall. Alyn crouches next to you, brushing your hair back and out of your eyes, his own scorching with rage. “God, ___. You don’t deserve this. What the fuck is wrong with those bastards? Why is all this shit happening all of a sudden?”

You lean into his hands, your chilled skin appreciating his now-warming touch greatly. “Don’t know. Life just… has it in for me this year.”

He shakes his head, scowling. “It’s not fair. This shouldn’t be happening to you.”

Leo rushes in now, the others coming to hover at the door. He sets your clothes and deodorant down next to you, joining Alyn in stroking your hair.

“___, can you get dressed? Are you going to be okay?” At your nod, he sighs, sounding shaken again. You feel like you’ve seen him, seen them all, in this state far too much lately. “Okay. We’ll be outside – if you feel faint, or sick, or need anything, tell us straight away. Alright?”

You make a sound of acknowledgement, nodding once more. The twins reluctantly leave, shutting the door behind them. Wanting to get out of your cold costume, you force yourself up, grabbing the towel in your lap. You dry off sluggishly, feeling weak and unsteady, before putting some deodorant on and getting dressed in your underwear, shirt and skirt, then your socks. Your shoes not there, and not capable of caring less about your hair, you pick up the costume and towel, then open the door.

The boys look relieved, seeing you still conscious and dressed. You grip the door for support, feeling your head spin just a little, still throbbing away. Alyn, Leo and Nico are gone, you notice, causing you to gradually start frowning. Giles takes your costume, going over to your bag and wrapping it in your own towel, then taking the other towel from you. You guess it’s one of the academy’s. “Where’s… ugh. Alyn, Leo and Nico. Where are they?”

Seeing you starting to become more unbalanced by the second, Byron tucks an arm around your waist, bringing you over to the lockers, where there’s benches attached. He sits you down, answering lowly, “They’re getting dressed. You need to go to the hospital, to make sure you haven’t got water in your lungs that hasn’t come up, or brain damage. You have free blocks for the rest of the day, and so do they, so they’re going with you.”

You shake your head automatically. “They don’t need to. I’m fine… I’ll just end up lying there for a few hours.”

He slides his hands around your face, smoothing his thumbs over the skin under your eyes. “Sweetheart,” He utters. Your expression softens. “They want to. We all do as well, but we have lessons. That’s the only reason why we aren’t all going with you. The lesson has been cancelled because of how serious this is, so they can come with you now, but we can’t.”

You make a noise in the back of your throat, face relaxing into his touch. You’re not exactly opposed to the boys coming with you.

Maybe two minutes later, said boys emerge, rushing down the corridor to you. You smile weakly, reaching for your shoes, on the floor next to you. Albert beats you to it, though, now with a towel covering his shoulders. He bats your hands away when you try to get the shoes off him.

“Stop it,” He scolds, sending you a sharp look. “Your blood pressure will be fluctuating right now because of your sudden submergence in the water, and so leaning down could cause you to pass out.”

You huff, but you let him carry on, knowing that he’s not going to relent in the slightest. He makes quick work of tugging your boots on, then lacing them up. As he does, Giles sits down next to you, hand rising to your face. He cups your cheek, then your forehead, before his other hand comes up to your nape at the same time. He frowns. “How are you feeling? Are you in much pain?”

You take a moment to check your body’s inventory, listing off, “My head’s pounding, my eyes hurt, my throat hurts, my lungs hurt, and my stomach hurts a lot. Otherwise, I’m fine. That’s assuming I don’t mention my mental state at the moment.”

He visibly pales, a frown forming instantly. “I didn’t see it myself; I was too far back when it happened. Did she kick you?”

Alyn’s rage intensifies from the side, and the same goes for several of the others. You guess they saw it happen.

You close your eyes, now starting to feel chilled, and lean into Giles’ hands more as Albert finishes up. The former cradles your face with more pressure, trying to allow more heat to seep into you while you speak. “Yeah. The others in her group separated me from you guys, and then she and Saber came through to me. She grabbed my throat to hold me there, and he punched me, before she then kicked me into the pool. That’s why I started choking so fast; I had no air when it hit the water.”

He tilts your face up now, peering at your neck. Your eyes open just as he stiffens.

“Someone get her phone, now.” He orders. Immediately, Leo retrieves it from your blazer, handing it to him. Giles takes it and taps at it, and then the flash comes on, staying on permanently. His breath catches in his throat. “You have marks. She made a handprint on you.”

You sigh with relief, despite the morbid nature of the statement. “Good. That means I can prove she attacked me.”

Giles nods, albeit looking more and more livid by the second. “I’ve taken a picture and a video. Someone get her butterfly.”

Leo dives into your bag, fishing out the requested item. You help to turn it on, then start a streamed broadcast to the ICAC servers so that Lucian will be able to see it.

You have no doubt he’ll be informed of everything shortly. Very little happens in the Royal Wysterian Academy without the ICAC finding out about it.

Turning the flash on, you record your neck, Giles assisting in making sure the handprint can be seen clearly. You rattle off the time and what happened, naming Adalicia and Saber clearly, so that it can be used as official evidence by the ICAC in the future.

“Check your stomach.” Louis murmurs mid-broadcast, expression crestfallen. “It might be bruised, and that will be more evidence.”

You pause, processing this, before nodding. You didn’t even look at your stomach when you got dressed.

Thanks to your low body temperature, you don’t blush as you hand the butterfly to Giles again, then reach down to tug your shirt out of your skirt. You lift it up, leaning back and wincing at the ache in your abdomen, before you peer down at it.

The boys all go completely still. Albert’s hands have come to rest on the sides of your boots absently, he having finished tying them. Now, though, they tighten, gripping your calves hard enough that you feel it through the material. Your heart drops, horrified shock wracking you.

Already, only minutes after being attacked, your stomach is bruising. The patches are clear to see already; one vaguely circular one, in the centre of your abdomen, and then a larger, longer one, slightly more on the left side of your stomach and very obviously having come from a foot or shoe.

“Shit…” You can’t hold back your swear, having not expected it to bruise so quickly, if at all. Sid cusses himself, and Alyn growls, enraged. Giles swallows hard, filming the whole thing, and does the same as before, making sure the bruises are seen before stopping the broadcast. He takes another picture and video on your phone just to be safe.

As soon as he’s done, you shove your shirt back down, feeling deeply rattled. Once you’re decent again, Alyn comes over, urging, “Come on. We need to get you to hospital.”

You agree, now that you’ve seen the damage they’ve done to you. You straighten up, pushing to your feet.

Only, then, to howl with agony and hunch over.

Pain erupts in your stomach, sharp and violent, searing through you. Your hand flies to the space, the other slamming against the locker for support. The boys lurch in, ready to catch you if you collapse. Tears threaten to form at the aching spreading through your torso, but you breathe through them, giving yourself a minute to calm down.

“Give me a sec.” You pant out. “I stood up too fast.”

Alyn reaches out now, tucking his arm under your shoulders. Your hand on the locker moves, the attached arm curling around his neck, and you use him to gradually straighten up. It hurts like hell, but you manage it after maybe thirty seconds, groaning quietly. “Okay, I’m up. Give me my bag.”

“Nope.” Leo shakes his head, throwing the item in question over his body with his own. Nico grabs your blazer, then your phone, while Giles puts the butterfly back into your bag. You just sigh, giving the others a weak wave.

“Thank you, guys. I’ll see you later.” You give them all a serious, forceful look, tone hardening significantly. “Be careful. Don’t leave yourselves vulnerable at all, understood? Stay with either each other, or a teacher, at all times. I’m guessing you’re all coming to the hospital after college, or my house, if I’m out by then.” They all nod. You do the same. “Get out of college quickly – don’t give anyone time to target you or try to hurt you.”

Byron is the first to speak, standing and coming to hold the side of your head gently. He kisses your forehead, murmuring, “We will, Sweetheart. Focus on yourself; we’ll be fine, if anything more now that this has happened.” He stares down at you, gaze intense and piercing, after he checks that the corridor is empty other for yourselves and there are no cameras. Then, he rests his lips against the space between your eyebrows, uttering against the skin, “I love you.”

With that, he pulls back. Giles moves in next, both hands finding the sides of your face. He kisses your forehead, then your temples, murmuring, “It appears we’re safe to use our nicknames for you here.” He manages a slightly weak smile, as do several of the others, before he whispers against your cheek, “Don’t worry about us, Precious. Just get yourself to the hospital before we have a collective heart attack.” He kisses the one cheek, touch feather-light. “I love you, ___.”

Sid moves once Giles has withdrawn, and presses a single, long, deep kiss to the crown of your head. “They’re not getting out of this, okay? I swear, they’re going to suffer for this. Stay with Alyn, Leo and Nico, and be careful, Love. I love ya.”

Now, Louis. He rests his forehead against yours, cradling your face very gingerly but lovingly, whispering, “I love you, Angel, so much. Please, stay safe. Don’t stay on your own, for any reason. Stay with the others – we’ll come for you as soon as we can.”

Robert moves in next, one hand cupping the back of your head, fingers combing through your hair ever so gently, while the others brush over your cheek. He kisses between your eyebrows, then your forehead, before nudging his nose against yours very gently. “Stay strong, Treasure. We have this under control; with the evidence we have now, we’ll no doubt be able to end this very soon.” He kisses the flesh to the left of your mouth very briefly. “I love you, ___, with all that I am.”

Lastly, Albert, blushing as always. His hand finds your cheek, holding it very tenderly, cautious and careful but always loving. He clears his throat, exhaling slowly, before he kisses your forehead. “Trust us. Have faith in us. Believe in us. We will return to you as soon as possible.” His mouth moves to your ear, where he whispers, very quietly, “I love you… Darling.”

Alyn, who has held you up but avoided looking the whole time this has happened, now grunts, tightening his grip on your waist. “Let’s go, preferably before someone walks in on something they shouldn’t see. Or I smack one of you.”

Silence follows. He’s right. You can’t afford to be seen, not by anyone.

But there’s only so much the guys can take, too.

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	6. Part VI | Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

An hour later, you’re curled up asleep, safely tucked away in the ICAC’s own hospital in Hellebore.

Naturally, you weren’t pleased about coming here; this is where you were after your father died, and after you were shot, as well as several other times over the years when you’ve needed medical attention.

You were taken in for scans straight away, doctors looking for internal bleeding and water inhalation, as well as damage to the abdominal organs and brain. They found none, fortunately, explaining that you probably weren’t hit hard enough and weren’t oxygen-deprived long enough to suffer such injuries. You simply gave them thumbs-ups at that, happy to not be injured badly.

However, they do request that you stay for at least three hours in case you start succumbing to secondary drowning, which is a comforting notion.

So, now, you’re asleep in the hospital bed, deeply under and completely still; Alyn, Leo and Nico told you to sleep if you needed to. An oxygen mask sits over your mouth and nose, at the advice of the doctors, who said that giving you pure oxygen for a while will hopefully ward off any delayed effects of nearly drowning.

The three sit around the bed, Leo and Nico holding your hands, while Alyn has dropped his head onto your knee through the cover. Leo nuzzles his face into your palm, warming the still slightly cool skin. Nico does the same, but he avoids breathing in through his nose; all he can smell is chlorine when he does, and the scent makes him remember you falling in. He feels nauseous, sick to the stomach, thinking about it.

Not too long later, the door all but flies open. The boys whirl around, eyes homing in on it.

Your mum stands there, panting away, Lucan close behind her. Leo makes a cutting motion in front of his neck, Nico pointing to your sleeping form urgently. Alyn glowers, ready to kill your family if they wake you up from much-needed rest.

Your mum calms herself a bit, but still hurries over, running her hands over your face and hair. Lucian comes around to your other side, and both Leo and Nico let your hands go, moving away for now to let the two fuss over you. The three watch, eyes narrowed in sync, as Lucian strokes your hair with one hand, gazing down at your face with a silent fury.

His other hand rests on yours, fingers pressed against your pulse point in your wrist.

Alyn’s scowl deepens, and even Leo and Nico can’t help but frown. The younger Crawford can’t help his bitter, somewhat hostile thoughts.

_Way to go, stepdad of the year. Checking her pulse, as if she could be dead… prick._

More footsteps approach the door. Xander and Tobias both bolt inside, flushed and having obviously sprinted through the hospital. They both almost collapse upon seeing you, relief dominating both of their faces and matching eyes. Xander bounds over, next to your mum, while Tobias goes to Lucian’s side. Both twins are for once showing real terror, concern and alarm, emotions flooding their body language. They both murmur to your parents, Lucian having pretty much taken on the role of your father by this point and so counting as one.

Well, in every way other than according to the law, but that’s beside the point.

The boys are feeling somewhat out of place. For years, it’s just been them and your mum who’ve been there for you. Now, they’ve been pushed out of the way for Lucian, who has been there as well at times, and the twins, who’ve only been around for a few weeks. It gets to them, just a little bit.

Lucian moves away after a second, giving Tobias room to peer at your face, sorrow and remorse seeping into his normally unreadable or grumpy expression. Xander seems to be comforting your mum, rubbing her back soothingly and murmuring to her, while she presses your fingers to her lips with her eyes closed. She nods to his words.

“What happened?” Lucian asks lowly, approaching the boys. “I was briefed by the teachers, but they said they didn’t see it themselves. Did you?”

Alyn nods. “I did. The two who we’ve already had problems with, Adalicia and Saber – you remember them?” Lucian nods. Alyn gives him a summary of what happened.

“It was them. Their group deliberately walked into ours to separate us, singling ___ out on her own. Adalicia and Saber went in for her themselves; Adalicia grabbed her by the throat while Saber punched her, and then Adalicia kicked her into the water. She was already winded from the hits, so she started to drown quickly. The students in their group were trying to hold us back, obviously to stop us from helping her, but I got them off me and jumped in. The teachers arrived, told the students to back off, and then we got her out and helped her to start breathing again.”

Your mum bursts into tears now, giving your hand to Xander, before sprinting around the bed to Alyn. She throws her arms around him, causing him to stiffen and stare up at her in bemused shock, while she wails as quietly as she can, “Thank you, Alyn! Thank you so much! You saved my baby. I… oh, God. If you guys, and the others, hadn’t been there…” She kisses his forehead fiercely, oblivious to his consuming embarrassment. “Thank you.”

He pats her arm, feeling awkward but now at least feeling less like they have no purpose there anymore. “Hey, she’s saved us more times than we can count. I’m just sorry we didn’t stop it completely.”

She shakes her head, moving to hug Leo now. He reciprocates it, rubbing her back in a calming, repetitive motion. “You couldn’t have known. I’m just so grateful you saved her; it’s not your responsibility to anticipate things like that.” She finally hugs Nico, breathing out, “I love you guys so much. You mean the world to her, and me. You all know that, right?”

She lets go, instead touching all of their faces, one by one. “All of you, and the others, are family. You always have been, and always will be. Okay?”

The three nod mutely. Considering that they just got demoted from sitting next to you by two guys who’ve known you for a few weeks, they’re not exactly feeling that right now.

But, they need to work with them. They’re your brothers now. You deserve to have a family, so they’ll have to bite their tongues and adjust.

It’s another two hours before the rest of the boys arrive, and you’re still asleep when they do. Xander and Tobias have moved away, sitting in the seats with your mum and Lucian, while the three who came with you are perched on your bed around you. The others receive hugs and thanks from your mum, and thanks only from Xander, Tobias and Lucian, for what they did.

Maybe ten minutes later, you start to come around. You shift, making a soft noise in the back of your throat. Your hands, held in Leo and Nico’s, tighten around them, and you mumble out into the oxygen mask, half awake, “Guys… boys…”

The nine share a look of unanimous alarm.

Xander and Tobias don’t know.

Leo is swift to lean down, rubbing a thumb over yours and murmuring, putting deliberate emphasis on the twins’ names, “___? Are you awake?  _Xander and Tobias_  are here, and your mum and Lucian.”

Even through your dream-kissed haze, the exaggerated words register. You go still, and then your eyes fly open.

You jerk up, a little too quickly, causing you to fall back against the bed again. Groaning, you let Nico and Leo help you to sit up, hands still locked in theirs. Your eyes find your family, all around you, and come to a gradual halt on Xander, Tobias, your mum and Lucian. You give them a smile, now much more alert and awake, before you release Leo’s hand to take the mask off. Setting it down on the cover, your hand slips back into his habitually.

“Hey.” You greet them, voice just a little croaky. “Sorry. Have you been here long?”

Xander’s head tilts, eyes flitting to your hands. His head tilts just a little, and then he shakes it, as if he’s dismissing a thought. Tobias frowns a bit, staring at them more obviously.

All of you see this. Your mum sends you a warning glance.

Your heart stutters with alarm. Your hands slide out of theirs, blended into a stretch and a yawn. Xander responds to your question, tone almost curious, like the feelings from what he’s seen have crept into his voice. “About two hours, but don’t worry. You obviously needed to sleep, after what happened.”

“Yeah.” Tobias mutters, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. “These guys said you’ve got bruises on your stomach. Do you?”

You wince, brushing his question off. “Yeah, but it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it; the students who did it are screwed now anyway-”

“Show me them.” Tobias cuts you off, expression entirely serious and tone leaving no room for arguments. You still, taken aback by the suppressed anger in his voice. He makes a face. “Please. Let me see them. I want to see for myself.”

Your gaze flickers to the boys automatically. They seem just as stuck as you, unsure of what to do. When you refer to your mum instead, she presses her lips together, but then she nods.

You sigh softly, doing the same. “Okay.”

It feels weird doing this, but not because you’re in the same room as the guys.

It feels weird because you’re doing it in front of Xander and Tobias. When it comes down to it, you don’t know them well at all. You’re not used to them. You aren’t nearly as comfortable with them as you are with the boys.

Forcing this back, you sit up, tugging your shirt up and out of your skirt again. You lift the shirt to just under your bra, then pull your skirt down, exposing your abdomen.

The bruises are aggressive now, darker and almost angry, blotchier and somehow bigger than earlier. It unnerves you just a bit, seeing your skin painted with proof of the rage of nobility. They’re still red and pink, but more intense, the colours deeper and much more prominent.

The looks of horror, disgust, fury and disbelief on the twins’ faces say everything.

You turn to Leo, tilting your head up. “Are the marks on my neck gone?”

He leans in close, reaching up to brush your hair back, then peer at your skin. He uses his phone’s flash to inspect it properly, face inches away from your throat.

The other guys, and both your mum and Lucian, don’t fail to notice the way Tobias now scowls at Leo, and how Xander seems almost hurt, watching him look you over. When your eyes flicker down, you see it too.

“Hm…” Leo hums, the sound reverberating out from his chest as a purr. “No. There’s some very light bruising there, but with your butterfly, as long as it’s not too sore, you should be able to hide it when you go out. Then again, we’re off college now, so you should be fine.” He presses his fingers against your throat extremely carefully, testing the pressure, eyes never leaving your face. “Does this hurt?”

You shake your head. “No.”

He smiles, relieved, before repeating the action on another spot with more obvious discolouration. “And here?”

“Nothing.” He turns his flash off, sitting back again.

“Yeah, it should heal up in a day or two.” His gaze rolls to your stomach, face falling and smile disappearing. “This is going to take longer, though. It usually takes about two weeks for deeper bruises to heal fully.”

You send your mum a marginally alarmed glance. “I’ll have to be careful when we go to try on dresses. Sometimes they insist on helping.”

She nods, expression forlorn. “Yeah. I’ll tell them before we start that you don’t want anyone helping you.”

You drop your shirt and fix it again, collapsing back against the bed with a pained groan. “My stomach hurts, but I’m starving. Can we go home soon?”

Your mum nods once more, pushing to her feet. “They told us a while ago that they’re happy with your condition, and to just take it easy over tomorrow as well as watching out for any symptoms.” She grabs her coat and bag, making a sweeping motion toward the door. “Come on, everyone. Let’s go home.”

Seeing you and your boys’ looks of confusion, she grins. “Oh, I forgot to mention; do you guys want to have a sleepover? I’ll make dinner for you all. I want to thank you for everything you all did today.”

Your lips are graced by a wide, delighted smile. The boys are the same, smiles or smirks or grins showing all around. You nod fiercely. “Are you kidding? I’ll make it, if we can have a sleepover.”

Leo helps you to slide to be sat sideward on, watching almost amusedly as you lean forward, then wince and stop mid-way with a hiss of pain, having been going to put your shoes on. He opens his mouth to tease you about it, but Albert is there before he can, sighing and kneeling down in front of you. He collects your boots, starting to put them on you again. You groan. “Albert, you don’t need to do that. I can put them on myself; I just moved too quick-”

“Tch.” He tuts, interrupting you dryly. “You have been instructed to not stretch or stress your abdominal muscles for at least a few days, and so you try to bend over not four hours after you sustained the injuries which caused you to be advised of this. Truly, you never cease to amaze me.” Tying the laces on one boot, he peers up at you, nudging his glasses. “I have told you this repeatedly. Allow us to help you; we owe you the assistance, for all you’ve done.”

Your cheeks warm slightly at that, and your smile widens further, eyes glimmering with that loving, adoring shine they always do when you look at the guys. “Sorry. Thank you, Albert.”

Now it’s his turn to blush. He lifts your other leg, sliding the other boot on and coughing. “You’re welcome.”

The boys are used to this, of course. They think nothing of it, if anything finding it quite cute, how Albert has made this a little thing that he often does for you, regardless of having reason or justification for it.

But, to Xander and Tobias, it’s baffling. It makes no sense, and it contradicts what they expected of you and the boys.

Their eyes are on you the whole time, as Albert finishes with your shoes, then offers you his hands. You take them with a beautiful, beaming smile, letting him tug you up and onto your feet. He gives you an almost exasperated one of his own, but there’s a lot of love in that look as well, and his eyes are nothing but kind. They watch you go out with the guys surrounding you, Giles having swiped your bag with a wink and Robert having grabbed your blazer with a cheeky grin, before you could even make a move to get them.

Your face is so lit up, smile so bright, it’s almost blinding. You only ever have that look when the boys are there.

And it’s this, as such, that leaves Xander and Tobias starting to wonder why.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

Later on, you’re upstairs with the guys. They all popped back to their dorms and houses on the way home to collect clothes and other things they need for sleeping over, and let parents know where logical or applicable that they’re staying at your house.

Meaning, Sid told his dad, and Louis let the servants know he’d be gone for the night. Unfortunately, the rest of the group don’t have parents to tell.

Now, it’s nine at night, and you’re sat on your bed, facing the TV on the wall, in Louis’ arms. He’s sat behind you, cuddling your waist with his head propped up on your left shoulder, wearing his pyjamas like you all are. For once, you’re not paying as much attention to the wonderful sensation of him cuddling you, instead staring intensely at the notes coming up on screen. Playing  _Guitar Hero_  against Alyn, he having brought his own guitar controller from the dorm, you’re focused like mad, determined to crush him and play fabulously.

Of course, the fact that you’re playing on regular difficulty means nothing. Alyn is too.

“Alyn, you can do it. You can do it. You can beat her. You can win. Come on, little bro. Bring the family pride or honour or whatever the hell it is that make you the stubborn delight you are. You’re completely not going to miss. You’re completely not going to go into a streak of failures. You’re completely not going to press the top row instead of the bottom row- shit!”

Leo flies back, sliding off the bed and onto the floor with a thud, curling in on himself with a moan of pain.

Alyn’s fist loosens, hand returning to his guitar calmly. “Thanks for the running commentary, Leo. It was really damn helpful.”

There’s a cough from the floor. “Anything for my beloved little… ugh, I think you burst my spleen.”

You can’t help but giggle, feeling Louis chuckling behind you as well. Despite the distraction, both you and Alyn are doing well, although you’re beating him just a bit so far. You end up snickering after a few seconds, musing rather darkly, “Hey, at least I’m not the only one that got punched today.”

Eight pair of eyes turn to either glare at you, or stare at you in unamused despair. Alyn doesn’t, but you can feel his glare radiating out from him in your direction.

“Too soon… ow.” Leo coughs out, rolling around on the floor in pain. Sid, lazing back in one of the beanbags near him, grunts, dropping his feet atop Leo’s back. The latter groans, now having the weight of Sid’s long damn legs on his spine.

“Agreed.” Said male mutters. “It’s 2016, Princess. You can’t just say something like that.”

You burst into laughter at his use of the meme, trying your best not to miss any notes in the process. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist.” The chorus of the song approaching on swift wings, you grin, asking, “Louis, could you put my Hero Power on, please?”

He hums into your throat, almost singing, voice lulling and ever so soft, “Of course.”

He presses the button for you, saving you from having to move your hand from the trigger to do it. You hear Alyn growl, to which your grin turns smug, and you briefly touch the side of your head against Louis’. “Thank you.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck in response, murmuring, “You’re welcome.”

And then he presses a gentle kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sending shudders through your whole body.

You immediately cringe, hearing the sound of you missing a note erupting from the speakers.

Sid snorts with laughter. “Well done, Lou-Lou.”

You make a face. “Goddamn it…”

Louis hides his face in your shoulder, now mumbling sheepishly, but you can feel his mischievous smile against your skin. “Sorry, Angel.”

You couldn’t be remotely annoyed at him if you tried. You give him a quick but tender peck on the top of his head, eyes never leaving the screen. “I forgive you.”

“I can tell you someone who doesn’t forgive Leo and me, though!” Nico chirps out, lying back across Byron and Albert’s laps on the sofa-bed. Everyone but you and Alyn look to him, suspicious, confused or curious.

“Alyn, I’m assuming?” Giles suggests, sat on your right, leant back against your pillows at the back of the bed with his arms crossed. Robert is on your left, lying back with one hand in his hair, pulling it back and out of his face. The other is resting atop his raised knee, leg pulled in halfway. Nico shakes his head, although not too much, since he obviously wouldn’t want to interrupt the wonderful head massage and hair-stroking Byron is giving him. Giles arches an eyebrow. “Who, then?”

Nico closes his eyes. “Tobias.”

That makes you miss another note. You curse, trying to concentrate on playing while simultaneously work out what he means.

“Meaning?” Giles presses. Nico grins.

“When Leo was looking at her throat, he looked so angry, it was almost funny. Xander looked really put-out as well, but I just felt bad for him since he’s nice. And when we were holding her hands, they were staring at us. I’m not going to lie, that really scared me – I hadn’t even thought anything of holding her hand, and then I realised they didn’t know!” Nico explains, laughing at the end.

You press your lips together. You noticed their behaviour as well.

Robert is the one who responds, pondering, “Well, we can’t exactly blame them. She’s their new little sister, and at least Xander seems keen to take on the role of dependable big brother, so it’s only natural that he, if not Tobias as well, would feel protective toward her.” He rests his chin on his knuckles, watching the game absently, while he continues, “Meaning, we’ll have to be rather careful when we’re around them, even more so in college, since they’ll be there after the holidays as well.”

Leo sits up now, moaning, “But we have to be careful here as well, and this was supposed to be a safe place.” You’re starting to feel guilty now, even though the twins’ existence couldn’t be your fault if you tried. Leo sees this in your expression. “Princess, don’t even start guilt-tripping yourself. I’m just whining because I’m a big baby.” He cuts Sid a sharp look. “Right?”

The Arnault chuckles darkly. “Yep.” He downs a gulp of his tea, drawling out, “But, to be fair, the two were told that we were her friends and that we’re all really close. They had it coming.”

Byron raises his eyebrow dubiously. “Coming from someone who has experience with not having a clue in general about relationships and friendships, to suddenly be exposed to a group like ours amounts to culture shock, and a strong one at that. We are rather, significantly abnormal.”

Sid lets his head tip back, staring at the ceiling. “True.”

The song ends. You win by a couple of thousand points, and finally relax into Louis, lowering the guitar. Your fingers ache from pressing the frets so hard, and your vision is distorting, everything in the centre moving upward from staring at the moving guitar neck for so long. You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking out your hands to stop them from hurting.

Not wanting the conversation to descend into a dark whirlwind of impending doom, you divert it, sighing out, “I win.”

You feel Alyn move, muttering curses under his breath, most aimed at Leo. He drapes himself across your legs with a huff. Louis takes your hands when you stop shaking them, twining his fingers through yours, warm and tender, nimble but still strong. Head falling back against his shoulder, he takes the opportunity you present him with, tickling his nose and lips against your throat. You shiver, squirming a bit at the feathery sensation, drawing a breathy laugh from him.

It’s silent for a long moment. Then, you sense that something’s off, and you open your eyes.

Sid, Leo and Nico are scheming again.

The latter has now gotten up from Byron’s lap, and all three are focused on Alyn’s vulnerable form. Laid back on top of you, his eyes are closed, hands under his head, spots like his stomach and neck exposed in a rare moment of relaxation.

Which, when Leo, Sid, and or Nico are present, is a really awful idea.

Nico tiptoes over to the bed, motioning for Giles to give him one of your pillows. Said Christophe sends you a questioning look, to which you nod; you want to see this, as cruel as it is. A smile tugs at Giles’ lips, and he sighs, but he takes one of the many pillows and hands it to Nico. The other two gesture for pillows as well, and after receiving another nod from you, Giles chucks them over. The three stand up, raising the pillows over their heads.

You shrink into Louis, biting your lip to stifle your oncoming laughter. He holds you tightly, he and the others watching on with amusement or, in Albert’s case, extreme satisfaction, at the impending assault.

Alyn’s eyes shoot open.

“Attack!” Leo shouts.

Instantly, all three of them start to beat Alyn with the pillows, howling with laughter. He shouts and swears back at them, lurching up. He swipes at the pillows, but they’re so well-coordinated in their evil that they’re able to cover each other when he does. As Alyn swipes at Sid, the latter jumps back, allowing Leo to smack Alyn flat in the face with a pillow. When he lunges into an attempted homicide with Leo, Nico whacks him around the back of the head hard enough to send him stumbling.

_Aw. Three on one, with the one unarmed, isn’t fair._

Feeling bad, you pluck a larger pillow from your side, calling out, “Alyn!”

He ducks out of the way of Sid’s wide-arcing swing, whirling around. You launch the pillow at him, and he catches it in a split second.

And then he’s grinning. If Alyn’s grinning, it means two things: either there’s some seriously,  _seriously_ funny shit going on, or someone’s going to hypothetically die by his hand.

_Yeah, now it’s completely fair._

He whips around, his pillow slamming into Leo’s face so hard he ends up falling back onto a beanbag, then rolling onto the floor. Sid and Nico momentarily stop, shocked by the power in Alyn’s attack, but this ends up being a huge mistake. He sends the pillow swinging back with such speed that it really shouldn’t be possible by physics, and it hits Sid first, knocking him to the side. The impact barely touches the pillow’s speed; it then catches Nico in the face, throwing him off-balance as well.

Sid tips over, falling straight onto Nico, who then collapses under his weight, right on top of Leo.

You wince. The older Crawford is really taking a beating today.

The moans and groans of pain coming from all of them make it clear who’s won. Alyn smirks, stepping up beside them. He raises the pillow, about to lash it down on Sid’s head.

At which point, Albert’s leg sweeps out, wiping Alyn’s feet clean off the floor.

You watch, wide-eyed, as he yells with panic, crashing down on top of the other three boys. Leo’s pained scream can be heard over Alyn’s, Nico’s and Sid’s combined, and you start to think you might end up in hospital again before midnight arrives.

A combination of the ridiculousness of the whole thing, and Albert’s smug little smirk, when accompanied by Byron’s rather pleased one, sends you into hysterics.

You cackle and giggle away in Louis’ arms, even as your stomach cries out in protest. You’re nearly screaming with laughter when you see Leo’s legs flailing under the still apparently-dead Alyn, Sid and Nico, and you almost feel like you’re drowning again from the lack of oxygen, once Byron pats Albert on the shoulder proudly.

“Oi,” Sid growls through your fits, eyes all but burning with a deadly-serious intent, as he turns to look at a certain Christophe. He then does the same with Louis, who has been embracing you all the while, and Robert. “Get revenge for us. Do it.”

A smirk forms on Giles’ lips, and something very close to one appears on Robert’s face. Louis actually grins, despite the words belonging to Sid. Giles speaks in an almost malevolent tone, clarifying, “Tickle torture?”

Sid nods. You don’t hear those two very important words.

As such, you end up screaming and crying out when the three descend on you, tickling you mercilessly.

Robert and Giles take a thigh each, their cruelly magic fingers dancing over the sensitive flesh. You try to rip them off you, nerves sparking wildly and body thrashing in response to the touch, but Louis now has your arms constricted, his own fingers tickling your upper sides. Your whole frame arches up, clean off the bed. Louis blows on your neck, and the other two simultaneously slip their fingers under your vest to tickle at your waist as well as your thighs.

You’re in so much pain with your stomach, it’s unreal, but you wouldn’t ask them to stop for the world.

But, apparently, said world  _does_  want you to stop.

Through your suffering, somehow, you hear the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway, and it occurs to you that there’s a very real, very serious possibility that it might be Xander and Tobias.

Panic floods you.

Somehow, in response to said panic, you do something that’s arguably the most spontaneous athletic feat you’ve ever performed in your life.

You manage to tear yourself out of the terrible trio’s arms, then launch yourself forward in a shockingly smooth, perfect forward roll, the guitar controller tucked against your stomach. You end up swinging up onto your knees, sat before the TV, as if you’ve been playing this whole time.

That it, you know, as opposed to being tickled to a rather intimate extent by three supposed best friends… all at once.

The door opens just as you sit up, feigning innocence, and you praise yourself incessantly for your blessed instincts.

Xander and Tobias poke their heads in, looking to some degree fearful at first. When they spot you sat on the bed, flushed and grinning but otherwise fine, and then the four boys on the floor still half-dead, they seem to realise that there’s nothing really wrong. Well, ‘Really’ is a relative term considering that last thing, but that’s beside the point.

“Ah…” Xander breathes out, eyes sliding to you, silently pleading for you to explain. “Are you all okay? We heard screaming, and it sounded like someone was fighting, or something like that…”

_‘Something like that’. Pfft. Only, you know, a three-on-one pillow war and a three-on-one tickle war._

Your head bounces up and down, almost aggressively so. “Yep! Sorry about that – I thought I was going to lose this and I was screaming about it, but then I won. Those four,” You point to the pile of unmoving boyfriends on the floor next to the bed. “Got into a pillow fight because Alyn lost, but it was him versus the other three, so it ended in a tie.”

Sid launches Alyn off him, causing the russet-haired boy to flip back, head smacking against the floor none too gently. Sid sits up, eyes blazing, and points at you. “If you hadn’t give him a bigger damn pillow, it would not have ended in a tie.”

You just smirk, drawling, “Yeah, right. Because one square inch makes all the difference in a pillow fight.” Ignoring his glare, you look back to the non-boyfriend twins, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry. We’ll be quiet now – we usually end up accidentally being quite noisy when we’re all here.”

Tobias’ face is a picture. You’re ninety-nine percent certain he took that as an innuendo.

Xander waves his hands about, dismissing, “No, don’t worry about it! It’s our bad. I think we were just a bit on-edge over today, so when we heard you screaming we got worried.” Your heart warms at that; it’s so sweet that they were worried about you to that extent.

“Thank you. I promise, I’m okay, and we’ll no doubt have this whole threat situation dealt with soon. Please, don’t worry about me.” You thank them graciously, slipping the guitar off you and setting it down. Xander steps inside the room, eyes taking on that soft, caring look. He beams, opening his arms.

“I didn’t get to hug you today, with everything that happened. Sorry – I know we must be intruding. Can I get a quick one?” He asks, tone hopeful.

You silently apologise to the guys, sliding off the bed and bouncing around Leo’s still-prone form, then over to Xander. You open your own arms, and he scoops you up when you’re in range, embracing your waist firmly but still gently. You hug his neck back, feeling a very pleasant, heartfelt sensation of familial security and protection sweeping over you. Xander exhales into your hair, rocking from side to side ever so slightly.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I wish none of it had happened, but regardless, I’m glad you weren’t hurt even worse.” He breathes out, hands rubbing over your back calmingly. You grin.

“So am I. Thanks, Xander.” He just hums, and then he suddenly reaches into his pocket, not letting you go. You feel him press something rectangular against your stomach for a moment, only very briefly and lightly. Then, he artfully eases it into the waistband of your bottoms, whispering,

“They’re the wedding invites for your friends, and your mum’s invitation to come shopping tomorrow. She just finished them today, so you can give them both to them all now.” Eyes widening in understanding, you nod, removing one arm from his neck to shove them deeper into your bottoms. Tugging your vest over them to conceal them, you give his neck a last squeeze with your other arm, whispering back,

“Thank you. I owe you one.” He just lets you go with a playful wink, and Tobias edges around him, grumbling gruffly,

“Do I get one as well? I’m your brother too, you know.” You laugh at that, nodding. He tugs you into his arms, hugging your shoulders and upper back tightly. You let him squish you against his chest, hearing him mutter, “The bastards who hurt you are going to fucking die though, just saying.”

You shake your head but you’re still grinning away. “Trust me, I think they’re already dying right now, be it by bankruptcy or by the ICAC. They’ll get what they deserve, Tobias; don’t rise to them. I’m the one that got punched and kicked, and I’m sure as hell not going to run after them for revenge.” He huffs, pulling back. You raise your eyebrows. “Okay? No homicide on my account, please. Just let it go. Besides, you have more important things to think about.”

He scowls. “Don’t say school.”

You smirk. “I wasn’t going to say school, actually.” You lean closer for a brief second, just to smart-mouth him, singing out, “I was going to say college.”

If only looks could kill. If only…

Xander drags Tobias out to stop him from murdering you, waving goodbye, as soon as he sees the killer look in his twin’s eyes. Tobias glares at you from Xander’s just-about choke hold, but Xander simply smiles. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight! And you, Tobias!” You respond sweetly. Tobias’ growl can be heard from down the corridor as Xander pulls him out. After a moment, silence returns.

And then you realise just how close you all came to being discovered, and your false confidence falls apart.

You throw the door shut, locking it frantically, before you turn toward them all again. Dropping to your knees, you end up with your palms on the floor, heaving in deep breaths in an attempt to calm your shaking body.

“Oh my God.” You all but pant out. “That was close. That was so close. That was  _too_  close.”

“Indeed.” Byron agrees, rubbing his temples. “Let us all take a moment to be thankful for ___’s impeccable hearing.”

Albert gets up, shaking his head, before approaching you. He kneels down before you, reaching out to place a tender hand on your shoulder. “They didn’t see anything suspicious; your quick thinking ensured that. We have nothing to worry about.” When you nod mutely, still trembling just a little from alarm and adrenaline, he smiles ever so slightly. “Really, now. Come.”

He takes hold of your arms, coaxing you to your feet. When you’re up, he scoops you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. He walks back over to the sofa-bed, seeming to be planning on giving you to Byron almost automatically. When the latter just gives him a gentle, amused smile, he blinks, confusion crossing his features. Byron’s smile grows. “Albert, you have a habit of giving away your own time and opportunities with her to the rest of us. Sit with her for a while.”

Albert’s skin immediately flushes, and your insides flutter at both that in itself, as well as the way Byron is being so aware of Albert’s time with you. You beam at him, gaze grateful. He just nods, that beautiful smile still there. Albert clears his throat after a moment, turning around and sitting down. He sets you on his lap daintily, seeming unsure of what to do since you’re sideward-on, and it’s at this point that Sid rolls his eyes.

“Albert, for the love of God, this isn’t a monastery. Just cuddle her. It really ain’t hard – this is painful to watch.” Albert only flushes more at that, snapping,

“Believe it or not, I am hesitating because I am being aware and conscious of the rules. In case you haven’t realised, certain degrees of contact are not permitted.” Sid gives him a flat look, replying dryly,

“You’re going to put your hand on her side and her thigh at the most. Shock-horror. We can handle that.” Byron steps in now, tuning to Albert and advising,

“Do whatever feels natural to you. If there is a problem, we’ll tell you.” His tone is sure and encouraging, expression supportive.

Albert swallows, frowning just a bit. You’ve been staring up at him the whole time, gauging his reactions and mood. To lessen the pressure on him, you shuffle into him a bit more, dropping your face against his collarbone. You keep your hands in your lap, closing your eyes.

Doing his best to ignore the stares of the others, he follows Byron’s guidance. He goes with his gut, letting his body decide how he wants to hold you.

One arm curls around your back, his hand settling on your side, against your ribs. Warm and careful, his thumb finds one rib in particular, massaging it habitually. The other hand rises as well, coming to rest on your hip. It’s almost protective, his arms now crossed around your body in such a way that he can keep you as close and safe as possible. It’s strange; as much as he feels embarrassed over doing this in front of the others, as the seconds tick by, it becomes more natural.

The boys watch on, but they’re not doing so in a negative way. They all have that supportive look, or at least a satisfied one.

You’re his, too. You’re his, just as much as you’re theirs, and they’re yours.

Nico grins, seeing the shift in his expression and the tension disappearing in his body. “See? It’s not that hard, right?” He winks. “And it’s the best thing ever, cuddling her.”

Albert diverts his eyes. “Shut it, br-” Mid-sentence, his fingers on your side run over something hard under your vest, causing him to pause and glance down at you. “___, what is that?”

You’ve been relaxing and snuggling into him this whole time, just ecstatic to have a moment of closeness with him, but now your eyes fly open. A grin stretches across your lips, and you lift your vest up, taking out the bundle of invitations. You peer down at the first set while putting the second back.

Each is hand-written for every one of the boys individually. It’s white with black borders, elegant but simple, and upon further inspection, you see that they all have the same message except for the names. It has simple wording, which is fitting for them, in a way. It invites them to the wedding as family, giving the date, time, location, dress code and other details.

You give Albert a beaming smile. His invitation is first in the pack, so you hand it to him face-down, instructing, “Don’t read it yet.” Ignoring his baffled sound of protest, you slip out of his arms and up, then bounce over to Alyn. You do the same with his. “Don’t read it yet.” When you give Byron his, you clarify to them all, “I’m not saying it nine times. Don’t read them yet.”

Once they’ve all got them, you hop around to the side of the group, where you can see them all and they can see you. Hands clasped behind your back, you practically vibrate where you stand, announcing proudly,

“And… you can read them! You are all cordially invited to the wedding of my mum and Lucian on the 31st of March, as family of them both, and of course,” Your voice quietens, just for these words. “As my boyfriends, but that’s just between us.”

They don’t make any noise at first, eyes fixed on the invitations.

And then Leo, apparently now recovered from his earlier tackling, lurches up, bounding across the room to you.

He wraps his arms around you, spinning you around so fast your head spins. You laugh delightedly, letting him twirl you, and he laughs out while he does, “Thank you so much, ___. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He sets you down, and you’re scooped up by Sid in a second; he grabs your hips, lifting you up so that you’re suspended in the air in front of him, foreheads touching together. He grins devilishly. “Hell yeah. Weddings have alcohol and people doing stupid shit; I’m all for it.”

He puts you down when you nod, and Nico slides in next, hooking an arm around your waist to whirl you around with him in wide, playful circles. He finally tugs you into a tight hug, exclaiming, “Oh man, I’m so happy right now. I get to go to a wedding! I’ve never been to one!”

You giggle, embracing him tightly. “Neither have I!”

You’re tugged away from Nico, a hand spinning you around in a ballet twirl, before another slips around your waist. You practically fly into Giles’ chest, his lips brushing against your cheek in a feather-light kiss. “Thank you very much, ___. I’d be delighted to attend.”

Your hand is taken from Giles, and you’re whirled around, into another, more delicate hold. You’re dipped down, body suspended below a certain blond. Louis grins beautifully, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Thank you so, so much, ___. I’d love to go. I’m so happy.”

He straightens up, bringing you with him. He lets go just as another hand finds yours, an arm tucking itself around your waist from behind. Robert’s face dives in to yours, lips finding your temple, graced by a majestic grin. “Thank you, ___. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I’m honoured.”

He spins you around by your hand, sending you twirling into Byron’s waiting arms. The latter smiles, a real, gorgeous smile that reaches his eyes, before he cups the back of your head and waist, kissing your forehead lovingly. “I would love to go. Thank you.”

Strong, slighter rougher arms tuck themselves around your waist, yanking you back before whirling you around. You’re thrown over a certain Crawford’s shoulder, and he snorts with laughter at your slightly frightened shriek. “Yeah, me too. Thanks, ___.”

He puts you down, and finally, Albert’s hand finds yours. Starkly different to the rest of them, he simply allows himself a real, ecstatic smile, lifting your hand to his mouth. He presses a soft, warm kiss to your knuckles, murmuring, “I’d be honoured, ___. Thank you very much.”

You give them all a stunning smile of your own, squeezing Albert’s hand. “You’re all very, very welcome, although you all deserve it so much, with everything you’ve done for me, my mum and even Lucian over the years. Thank you, all of you. We owe you the world and more.” Now, you let go of Albert, reaching into your waistband again. You take out the smaller cards, these just as elegant and professional.

That is, except for the wording. You grin, giving it a quick read yourself. These have each boy’s name, and then the following message.

_“You’re also cordially invited, meaning that you will, and have no choice to, come shopping tomorrow for your suits; we’re buying them for you, and we don’t care what you say to try to convince us otherwise. ___ has already made sure that you’re all free tomorrow, and now you’re already here in the house because I’m just too clever like that._

_Brace yourselves; tomorrow, we’re getting up at seven, will be out for nine, and aren’t going home until I have a wedding dress, you’ve all been measured and ordered for suits, Lucian has his own service uniform (the ICAC offered that we have a military wedding, and we need more ushers, so we said yes), Xander and Tobias have theirs, and ___ has a maid of honour dress._

_Love you guys! See you in the morning <3”_

You last a second, and then you burst into laughter. “Oh, mum. You’re a legend.”

Giggling away to yourself, you give them all the cards, making them keep them face-down until you’re ready. Then, you back up toward the bathroom, knowing they’re going to try to fight you on this.

“And… read! You’re all invited to come shopping tomorrow for suits while me and mum get dresses, and have no choice because you’re already here and my mum insists that she and Lucian get them for you. No objections!”

With that, you bolt into the en suite, locking the door. You brush your teeth smugly, hearing the rumbling of them most likely complaining over this new arrangement, before neatening yourself up and stepping out again.

You receive nine glares when you walk over, but you take no notice. “Don’t glare at me, boys. If you have a problem, take it up with mum.” Hopping up onto your bed, you cross your arms, chirping sweetly, “And Lucian, of course. And Xander and Tobias as well, I guess. Be my guest to try arguing with them all.”

Their glares intensify. Cue the second revenge tickle-war of the night.

This one, you lose. Miserably.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**21 st October 2016 | Half-Term Holiday, College Year 2**

The next morning, you wake up completely, blissfully, peacefully happy.

You also wake up with the sensation of three boys around you, and your legs to some degree numb.

Your phone vibrates under your pillow, ringing with a chiming alarm, signalling to you that it’s seven in the morning - you need time for all the boys to get showered and ready, along with yourself, for that matter. You sigh, fingers slipping away from the soft strands of hair they’re currently buried in to sluggishly retrieve it. You turn the alarm off, stretching as much as you can in your position.

Said position would be that you’re on your back for the most part, but your torso it tilted up and to the side slightly. This allows Giles, who is asleep behind you and has his arm tucked under your neck, to remain close to you, but doesn’t prevent Louis, who is currently draped across your stomach and legs, from sleeping. Robert is on your other side, facing you to some extent, his arm under your head and lips resting against your forehead.

Louis’ face is nuzzled into your abdomen, arms around your waist and under the curve of your spine, and the cover almost completely conceals his form; it’s pulled lower, off your torso, so he can breathe, but is then covering Giles and Robert completely.

“Guys,” You utter softly. There’s no response. You sigh, but your lips turn up in a silly little smile. “Boys.” Several noises sound this time, and Louis presses his face into your stomach harder. You try not to wince at the pressure causing your bruises to ache, instead singing out, voice very soft, “Princes.”

You can almost feel them smiling and grinning.

“Whoever takes the longest in the shower, get up and move. If we’re late, mum will murder us.” You instruct, feeling Giles’ fingers ghosting down your arm to your hand, settled atop Louis’ head. He slides his fingers through yours, bringing it up to his lips. Brushing an airy, feathery kiss against your palm, he hums lowly, causing you to shiver just a little. Your fingers on your other hand, in Louis’ hair, stroke through the strands gently. It’s now that he speaks, mumbling through your shirt,

“Sid probably has the longest hair. He takes ages… he can go first.” There’s a groan across the room, from the floor, where you know Sid, Alyn and Leo are on the beanbags.

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Lou-Lou. We all know you take the mick and spend hours in the shower.” Sid retorts, not sounding amused in the slightest.

You shake your head. Robert trails butterfly kisses across your forehead, over your eyebrow, then against your temple. Giles is lavishing your palm with deeper kisses now, periodically pausing in them to suck very lightly on your flesh. You exhale shakily, insides tensing and clenching with pleasure at their touches. You’re glad their kisses are concealed by the pillows, the copious amount of them amassed on either side of you all, almost creating a protective wall around you.

“Sid,” Byron sighs out, voice low, husky and gravelly from sleep. “Just go.”

Sid mutters and curses under his breath at both the Wagner heir and the half-asleep blond, but you hear him get up and grab his bag, then head into the en suite.

Louis shifts now, seeming to have caught on to Giles and Robert peppering kisses everywhere they can touch. His palm, almost hot, runs down your back, fingers grazing over the ridges of your spine through your vest. Heat flushes through you, pleasure rippling within your limbs, as his other hand nudges the bottom of your vest up. You feel his mouth tickle against the space above your naval, nose and hair now tickling the flesh of your abdomen. Your hand tightens around Giles’, squeezing and gripping in response to the overwhelming sensations consuming you from all sides.

He and Robert have clicked on that Louis has joined in, it seems.

And it appears that they’re, fortunately, willing to share.

Giles’ lips descend, kisses lining your wrist. Robert’s hand has found your head, cradling it and tipping it back, allowing his lips access to the sensitive flesh of your throat. He kisses your pulse point, causing you to grip Louis’ hair just a little harder, muscles quivering.

_This should be wrong. This should be so, so wrong, lying in bed with three boys kissing me like this._

But you can’t deny your heart, or your body. Emotionally, mentally,  _and_  now physically, you want them.

_I love them. They’re mine. I want to be able to show them that in every way._

Louis reaches down, grabbing the cover and tugging it up, over his head. Evidently, this is code to Giles and Robert; they grab it swiftly, bringing it up and over all of you, obscuring the now rather intense, intimate moment going on between you all. The sudden darkness around you, in contrast to the sunlight that had lit the room slightly from underneath the blinds, just makes your already pounding heart thump harder. Adrenaline zips through your trembling form, excitement wracking your limbs almost violently.

“Are those three going back to sleep or what?” You hear Alyn ask gruffly. There’s a hum from Leo.

“Maybe. Or maybe they’re really, really not.”

A stab of guilt rips through your pleasure, just for a moment.

“Leave them be. All of us have to have showers – they may as well rest while they’re waiting for their turn.”

Thank God for Byron, apparently feeling generous enough to let you carry on. You feel bad, because at least Louis is breaking rule six right now: you’re not to be touched intimately in front of the others. By technicality, you’re not, since you’re all hidden, but you’re still in the same room.

But, even though you aren’t aware of it, the others aren’t feeling too badly bothered by it.

Sure, it pains them a bit to know that Giles, Robert and Louis are touching you and kissing you. However, when they all put themselves in that position, they come to the conclusion that they’d be so, so tempted to, and would probably actually  _do_ , the same.

They’ve reached the point now where that jealousy, that hatred of any of the others touching you, has passed. Just like with the way they encouraged Albert to hold you last night, they’ve learnt, and are always learning, how to control themselves more. They’re developing the ability to cope with seeing such things, and being aware of it. Just like how you’re learning to deal with knowing that this at times is painful for them, they’re making themselves able to deal with the reality that is sharing your love.

As long as they don’t see anything too intimate, they can hold it together. Knowing that such things happen is one thing, but to see it… that’s another story entirely.

You’re so hot. The air under the covers is getting warmer by the second with your marginally laboured breaths, and the heavy, heady breaths of the boys. Louis’s own breaths are like fire against your bare stomach, and his lips almost burn the flesh, searing up your abdomen like molten rock. Giles has covered every square inch of your forearm with his own lips, and now he turns just slightly, still holding your hand, so that he can take the soft, inner skin of your upper arm between them. His arm lowering to brace itself under your back, he buries his face in your flesh, decorating it with kisses.

And Robert has decided that he’s had enough of artfully avoiding your lips. His mouth grazes up and over your jaw, hand tipping your head toward him once more. Trembling, heaving in your breaths through the pleasure, your eyes flutter open.

All you see are those beautiful, calm, ashy brown eyes, gazing down at you with a look of pure, unadulterated love, before his mouth closes over your own.

Your eyes shut once more, and your hand on Louis’ head leaves him, drifting up to Robert’s face. Your fingers find his hair, ghosting through the silken strands, anchoring him there against your mouth. He kisses you deeply, sending your head spinning and mind whirling into a whole new dimension of pleasure. The cool, almost dangerous smile that you feel against your lips only serves to send more intense shockwaves through you, drawing a very soft, very quiet moan from you.

He grins, letting the sound pass through so that he can bask in its beauty, before he dives back in, claiming you over and over and over again. His hand finds the empty space on your other side, between yourself and Giles’ chest, allowing him to lean down even more, kissing you harder and with more passion with each passing second.

There’s so much pleasure, it’s almost too much. With the threat of making sounds the others might hear, it’s both the most terrifying and unbearably amazing sensation you’ve ever felt.

And so, through your haze, you fail to hear the footsteps approaching the bed.

Robert doesn’t.

All of a sudden, without any warning, his arms trap you against him. The hand next to your hip slides under your body, gripping your waist tightly, while the arm under your head moves to grasp your shoulders. He flips over in a split-second, wrenching you out from under Louis and then over him, arm dragged away from Giles. Baffled, your squeak of surprise ends up muffled by his chest, before you land on the opposite side of where Robert is lying, closer to the Eastern wall.

Feeling your confusion and panic, he crushes you there, pressing your face against his collarbone and upper chest. “Ssh,” He hushes you. “Trust me.”

Not two moments later, the cover is thrown off you all.

You stifle a scream, feeling near-cold air encase your body. Robert stiffens, apparently feeling it just as much, while you hear Louis make an almost pained howling sound and Giles groaning.

“What on earth are you doing, Nico?” The latter snaps, tone very, very,  _very_  unamused now. Robert remains where he is, as if he’s been hugging you this whole time, but leans down to utter against your ear while Nico starts to argue with Giles,

“Breathe.” You blink, confused, for a heartbeat. Then, it clicks.

He’s telling you to breathe, because you must be flushed like hell, and your mouth is no doubt swollen from the onslaught of kisses. He’s helping to protect the others from seeing that, by hiding you until you calm down.

Your heart sings.

_Oh, Robert. You’re always doing so much to keep them all safe._

You do as he says, gripping his shirt and taking in deep, paced breaths, focusing on calming your racing heart. He strokes your hair soothingly, the gradual movements helping you to settle faster and bring yourself under control again. He kisses the crown of your head, but it’s an innocent one now, as opposed to the blistering ones he was giving you not twenty seconds ago.

“Good girl,” He murmurs, smiling into your hair. “Just a little longer.”

You find yourself giggling just a little at that, whispering, “I’m not complaining.”

He laughs breathily himself. Another kiss. “Nor am I. I mean just a bit longer until you don’t look like you’ve attempted to transform into a tomato.”

Naturally, that just embarrasses you more. You make a disgruntled sound, burrowing into his chest again.

The next hour entails all of you having a shower, and then getting dressed, before you gradually filter out downstairs. Your mum is awake, as are Lucian, Xander and Tobias, and the first two are busy making breakfast for everyone. Your boys and yourself just have simple things so they don’t have too much to do, and you help Xander and Tobias make drinks for everyone.

It’s half eight by the time you’ve all had your food and are finishing drinks, sat in the living room together. With the addition of Xander and Tobias, there now aren’t enough seats, and you end up sat on a beanbag instead. Leo is in the one on your right, Louis in the one on your left, and Alyn is next to your feet on Leo’s side, while Sid is on the floor next to your feet on Louis’ side. Albert, Byron, Tobias and Xander are on the four-seater couch from left to right, while Giles, your mum and Lucian are on the three-seater, with Robert in the circle chair once more.

“So,” You say, having just had a sip of your drink. “What’s the plan?”

Your mum has a sip of her tea, then answers, “Right. We’re going to go into town, and me and you are going to look for a dress for you. At the same time, all of you boys,” She gestures vaguely to your boys, then Xander and Tobias. “Are going to go with Lucian and get fitted for suits.”

Byron speaks at this point, tone respectful but firm. “While we appreciate the gesture of you paying for the suits, we are more than happy to-”

Lucian cuts him off, stating bluntly, “Byron, don’t even try. You’re not persuading either of us – we’re paying, and that’s it. We’re not discussing it. Any of you. Shut it.”

The boys remain silent. Byron narrows his eyes, to which you just send him an apologetic smile. Your mum continues now. “So, you boys will get measured and pick out suits and whatever; Lucian will explain the sort of things that are okay and not okay. There’s only a few of the latter, but he’ll tell you.” Another sip of tea.

“So, what happens after this depends on where we’re up to. Once we get your dress, missus,” Your mum points to you. “I’m going to look for my dress. Obviously, Lucian isn’t going to be with me for that because of tradition and whatnot, but you boys will all possibly be done by this point. If that happens, you’re free to do whatever you want, basically.

“Lucian said he’ll probably just go for something to eat and drink once he’s finished with his service uniform, so you can stay with him and do that as well, you can go home if you want, or you can come and join me and ___. My bridal party consist of us two, after all, so I have no issue with extra company while I’m choosing.”

There’s nods all around. She grins. “Any questions?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Understood.”

Once you’re all done with your drinks, you collect your phone and bag, then your coat. The boys do the same, and you’re inches away from the front door when Lucian’s voice thunders down the corridor. “___!”

You freeze, cringing instinctively. Steeling yourself, you whip around, shouting back, “What?”

Your boys separate so he can walk up to you, arms crossed and body language admittedly somewhat intimidating. You wonder what you’ve done wrong.

“Where’s your butterfly?”

_Oh, fuck me._

You wince, realising that you were about to leave without it. Groaning, you shuffle past him and through the corridor, heading to the stairs. “It’s upstairs. Let me guess; the knives as well?”

The look he sends you says everything.

You go upstairs, retrieving the butterfly from your bedside table and putting it on, earphones popped into your ears. You then get the knives, strapping them to your thigh, where they’ll be hidden under your top and coat. You keep the covers down, so that they can’t be seen anyway, but it’s better to keep the holster obscured as well.

Done with this and now sufficiently armed and protected, you go back downstairs. Everyone is gone, most likely in the cars, except for Lucian. He watches you walk to him, his arms crossed tightly, but there’s something distantly remorseful in his eyes. “I wouldn’t tell you to do it if it wasn’t necessary, ___.”

You just sigh, muttering, “I know. It doesn’t stop me from feeling like I’m about to be attacked at any given minute, though, does it?”

With that, you make your way out. He locks the door behind himself, and you see Sid leaning against the side of his car, on the passenger side. He gives you a smirk. “Who are you riding with? I’m guessing you want to stay with your mum.”

You shake your head fiercely. “Not in the slightest. Lucian’s being a pain again.” His smirk widens. He opens the middle door, where you see Alyn and Leo sat in the middle row of seats.

“Hop on in, Love. We’re much more fun.” You have to grin at that, nodding in agreement. You climb in, Alyn helping you to move over him, ending up sat between the twins. Sid closes the door, and Giles, in the passenger seat, sends you a pleasant smile. “All ready?”

“Yep. And nope, at the same time.” You sigh out, putting your belt on. When you’re strapped in, Leo catches you around the waist and tugs you back, against his chest. Alyn huffs, lifting your legs on top of his, so he can massage your knees and calves. Feeling warm, safe and loved in their arms, you close your eyes, murmuring, “I know what my mum’s like. She’ll take forever to choose something – she’s really easily pleased. Plus, I hate being collared like this all the time.”

Leo cuddles into you from behind, kissing your temple. “Hopefully, you don’t have to wear it soon. It’s to keep you safe, so we just need to bear with it until it comes off.”

You hum, hands finding his, atop your stomach. It’s still tender, but not so much that him hugging you is unbearable. “True. The knives are complete overkill, though.” You think for a moment, backtracking, “Actually, for Lucian, it’s not. He carries his gun all the time.”

You feel Leo stiffen, and Alyn’s hands still atop your shins. The former speaks, voice slightly higher in pitch with surprise. “A gun? All the time?”

You nod, nuzzling your face into the side of his. “Yeah. He hides it really well, in his jeans or jacket, but he never leaves without it. Since my dad died, he hasn’t dared to. He doesn’t trust not being armed anymore, like a lot of agents have since it all happened. An agent being taken down like that, in a blatant assassination attempt in public, let alone at midday, should never have happened. The wide majority of agents won’t move about unarmed now, either.”

The boys can’t think of a single thing to say. They hadn’t realised the impact your father’s murder has had on the ICAC.

Lucian, in his car by this point, now gestures to Sid and Byron, the drivers of their cars. They seem to understand what he means, and when he pulls out, they fall in behind him, Sid’s car in the middle and Byron’s at the back.

You lean back against Leo, his fingers curling around yours. You let your head tip back, feeling him drop his head down, lips coming to rest on your forehead. “Well, now that I’ve successfully made the conversation awkward, let’s change the topic. I don’t want death to be the last thing I’ve talked about before my mum drags me through the shops for the whole day.”

Sid just smirks. “As you wish, Princess.”

You burst into laughter. Rebecca Black blasts through the speakers.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

Once you arrive in town, you all park in the car park, a tall, winding building with ten floors. The track down the stairs nearly kills you all, but you make it, and finally get into the main part of town.

“Okay!” Your mum chirps, at the front of your rather massive group; there’s fourteen of you now. “So, ___ is with me, and the rest of you are going together for suits. If you finish, text us and we’ll let you know where we are, or if we manage to finish first, we’ll…”

Her words trail off, at least to you. You’ve been walking by her side up until now, but as you turn the corner, everything seems to fade away. The world goes quiet, and it’s almost like everything goes numb. You keep walking, but you’re not seeing anything. You can’t even feel your heart pounding in your chest, nor the tightness of your throat.

_I’m… I’m here again._

The independence statue sits amidst its fountain, in the town square.

You can’t stop yourself from remembering. Everything comes back, all at once. You haven’t been here this whole time, have avoided this place like death itself.

You see Gerald Wagner’s cruel smirk, his gun, his finger pointing you and your dad out as the targets to kill. You see the others rising, aiming, feel the terror, the horror of running, knowing the guns behind you are trained on your back.

You hear the gunshot again.

You see him die again.

You feel a part of your own soul, a part of your life, die with him, all over again.

“___? ___, what’s wrong?”

“Shit! The fountain!”

“I hadn’t even noticed… I- I didn’t realise we’d walk past it to get to the shops. Oh, God…”

Your eyes are fixated on the floor, on a spot coming increasingly closer to you. Several people huddle around it, curious or sombre, reading the plaque on the ground.

The plaque, marking the place of the tragic death of a man who didn’t deserve to die.

The plaque with your dad’s name on it.

A hand cups itself around your face, forcing it to turn away from the spot. An arm slips around your waist, urging you to the side swiftly, diverting to a slip-street. You grip the person, fingers fisting in their jacket. You let them guide you away from the square and through the street, ignoring the confused or concerned looks people give you as you go past them.

After a few minutes of walking, you end up in a much quieter section of the city centre. The person holding you takes you into an empty, obscure archway between two buildings, where they stop, exhaling slowly.

They turn you around, wrapping their arms around you. Your head is braced against their chest, the other hand finding the small of your back. Your breaths are shallow now, and swift, heartbeat racing a mile a minute. Feeling increasingly panicked and unable to shake off the anxiety induced by coming so close to a place filled with nothing but awful memories, you whimper into their chest, clinging onto their jacket. They hush you softly, stroking your hair.

“You’re safe, Darling. I promise, you’re safe. He will not hurt you, not anymore. He’s gone. I, and the others, are here with you. You’re alright.”

_Albert._

You try to focus on his words. You grasp every syllable, every sound and sentence, using them to distract you from your increasing discomfort. You grip him harder, and he holds you tighter, giving you the support you need.

_Of course, it’s Albert. Of course, he’d notice. He was tormented by Gerald as well._

Many footsteps rush toward you both. Trying not to work yourself into hysteria at the thought that it might be someone coming to attack you, you hold your breath, crushing your face against his chest. He makes soothing sounds, uttering, “Breathe, ___. It’s just the others. They’re not going to hurt you.”

You’re safe. The concept registers.

“Is she alright?” Giles’ voice.

“___, are you okay?” That’s Nico.

“Goddammit! How did no one realise we were going to walk right into it?” Alyn.

“She’s barely managed to move on, and we walk her right into the place where it happened. Are you kidding me…” Leo.

The boys sound furious. You don’t really blame them, to be honest; it’s a ridiculous mistake for Lucian and your mum to have made, considering that they were the ones taking you all to the shops.

“At least someone was paying attention. Thanks, Albert.” That’s Tobias talking. He’s close. “Here, give her to me.”

Albert goes stone-still. Every muscle around you tenses, body shifting to now guard your trembling form, as opposed to simply embracing you. “Excuse me?”

There’s a pause. “I said, give her to me. I’ll calm her down.” Another moment of hesitation, and then an aggravated sigh. “Look, I know she’s close to all of you, but I’m her brother, okay? So’s Xander. We can take care of her.”

“Tobias-” Lucian starts, also nearby, tone warning. He doesn’t get to finish, because Albert’s sharp retort cuts him off mid-sentence.

“With all due respect, I am very much aware that you are her brother. However, considering the time we have spent with her, I would say that we are more than capable, arguably to a further extent than both of you combined, to take care of her. We were there when it happened. We got her through it, so I would advise you not to insult us in such a way, by insinuating that we are not needed anymore.”

_No, no, no! Don’t fight! Please, not now! Don’t do this!_

Tobias’ voice becomes much louder now, and blatantly livid. “Who the hell do you think you are? You’re her friend. Okay, maybe a best friend, but that’s it. She’s naturally going to feel safer and more comfortable with someone who’s her family, even if you’ve been with her for years. Do me a favour and get off your high horse.”

More footsteps. You have no doubt it’s the boys, ready to round on Tobias and defend Albert.

_Stop it!_

“Don’t!” You shout, considering how your face is still buried in Albert’s chest. “Don’t start fighting over this! Does it really matter? Just give me a minute to get myself together, and then we can just leave this alone. Don’t argue over something stupid like this!”

Xander speaks now, sounding appalled. “___, it’s not something stupid. We’re your family – we want to help you. That doesn’t mean they can’t, of course, but they barely leave your side. We hardly get the chance to help you.”

_Ouch._

That stings just a little, and guilt flows through you as a result, but your response still comes out strong and certain. “I know that, Xander, but you need to understand something.”

You lift your head from Albert’s chest, eyes opening. The boys are stood to the left in the archway, postures and body language borderline aggressive, hostile or defensive, while Xander and Tobias are in front of you, and your mum and Lucian are stood on the right.

You stare straight at your brothers, explaining clearly, voice giving no room for arguments, “The boys  _are_ my family, just as much as you two are. They’ve been with me for years. They’re so, so important to me, and I trust them with my life and more. They do help me a lot, and they are with me a lot, but that’s because of how close we are. We’ve been through so much together, have gotten through so much, that I consider them to be no different than mum, Lucian and you two. They’re a huge part of my world, so I’d ask you to try and accept that – accept them.”

You give Albert a brief look, drawing back from him and giving his arms a reassuring squeeze. He lets you go, and you heave in a breath, still trying to free yourself from the chains of a mild panic attack.

“But this isn’t a competition. Fighting and arguing over who’s going to comfort me, when something like that happens, is ridiculous. I can tell you now that, if it were just the boys with me and that had happened, they wouldn’t question whoever got me out of the square just now. Instead, they’d be doing everything they could to make sure I’m alright, and trusting whoever is immediately with me to calm me down. So, please, don’t try and turn something like that, something that shouldn’t have even happened today, into one.”

Now, your eyes snap to your mum. “Let’s go, please. It’s your day, and Lucian’s, to be happy. I’ve already ruined that a bit, which I’m sorry for, so let’s just get going. We need as much time as we can get.” Your gaze shifts to Lucian, now much calmer, more controlled and focused, determined to make the two of them happy and not upset over something like this. “I’m sorry about this. Can you make sure they don’t fight while they’re with you?”

You don’t know what you expect him to say, to be honest, but you certainly don’t expect him to smile.

Blinking with confusion, you can only watch as he steps up to you, then brings you into a gentle, warm hug. He kisses your hair softly, murmuring, “Don’t apologise; you’ve done nothing wrong. They won’t breathe a word of it. Leave it to me.”

He lets you go, and you manage a weak smile of your own. “Thank you.” Finally, your hues roll to your brothers. “If you want to talk about this more, and if there’s other things you’re unhappy about that you want to speak about, I’ll happily talk to you tonight. For now, please, let’s just be civil for the sake of mum and dad. Okay?”

Their pupils expand in sync. Lucian stiffens just slightly, taken aback. Your mum’s mouth pops open.

You just called Lucian your dad. You haven’t done that once, in the whole period of time that you’ve known he’s been engaged to your mum.

But it’s something you need to get used to, and right now, it’s more necessary than ever to say it. It doesn’t mean he’s replacing your biological dad, at all. It doesn’t mean he never existed. It just means that, now, Lucian is your dad – stepfather, actually, but that’s hardly important – and will act as that for the rest of his life, assuming they don’t end up divorcing. You avoid considering the idea.

You hold your hand out to your mum. “Come on. Let’s go and spend copious amounts of time trying on dresses until you have the whole ‘Eureka!’ moment and burst into tears, like they do on TV. I don’t actually know if that’s accurate, though.” You make a face, sighing out, “I’ve never been to a wedding. I haven’t got a clue.”

She looks so proud, and like she’s simultaneously about to cry right now. Her head practically bounces up and down, and she takes your hand tightly, gripping it hard. You nod to the others. “Don’t kill each other. I’ll just drag you all back from the other side. Understood?”

Your boys nod wordlessly.

Truth be told, they’re feeling so, so smug right now, it’s unreal.

You all but just declared your love for them, without actually doing that, to your brothers. You pretty much just said everything they’ve been thinking, and have silenced every concern and doubt they’ve started to have in the past few weeks. You really do love them, so much, that is clear to see; the flames in your eyes burned so bright, smouldered so intensely, that it’s undeniable that you truly care for them all with everything you are.

For them, this is very much a situation where they’re all thinking the exact same thing.

_Take that. She loves us, too._

Your mum tugs you away now, in the direction of the shop she wants to start with. Tucking you under her shoulder, she beams, practically cooing, “___, you haven’t ruined anything. I’m sorry – I was the one who was careless and thoughtless. I should have realised and brought us in a different way, so don’t you dare blame yourself. Okay?”

Your expression softens. While you still feel guilty, you see her point. “Yeah, okay. But it’s not your fault either. I mean, you’re having your wedding-dress-exploration day, so you shouldn’t be having to think about whether your daughter’s going to have a breakdown in the middle of town.”

She shakes her head fiercely. “___, that’s something I, and Lucian, should always be thinking about. It’s our responsibility to protect you and keep you safe, mentally, emotionally and physically.”

You just sigh, knowing she’s likely not going to relent. “We’ll agree to disagree.”

She grins at that, and then suddenly squeals, practically wailing, “Oh, but I’m so, so proud of you! The way you can just handle and practically wrangle pretty much any boys you meet is just amazing. You’re just like your dad, and I say that because it’s genuinely true. He was always wonderful at handling people and keeping control of situations, regardless of the state he was in.”

You ponder that for a moment, thoughts drifting to Adalicia and Saber in college, and Aubrey, the girl who went after you in high school. You smile wryly, musing, “I don’t think that’s quite true. I seem to be pretty bad at dealing with girls in general, and some boys at least. Just look at Aubrey, Adalicia and Saber, and the groups who hate my guts.”

She squeezes you, rubbing your upper arm and dismissing, “But they’re all rare cases, and are part of the minority of people who don’t like you. They don’t count.”

Your expression flattens. “You seriously think too highly of me. I’m really not very likeable, and it’s completely wrong that the majority of people I know like me.”

You arrive at the shop now, one specifically centred around bridesmaids, all the way from infant ones to adults and the elderly. Your mum shakes her head.

“Trust me, I’m not wrong. You’re adored, ___, way more than you think. You’ll probably never believe it because you’re just like your dad and you’re way too harsh on yourself, but you really are loved.” Walking inside, the bell rings, and one of the staff starts to approach you both. Your mum lets you go with a wink, repeating, “Trust me.”

“Hello. Can I help you with anything?” The woman asks, tone pleasant. Your mum starts to explain the wedding, you being the maid of honour, and her colour scheme of blue, to which the woman listens intently, gaze understanding.

Meanwhile, you’re left, stood there in complete bafflement and bemusement.

_What does she mean? It’s always been the same with me, all through my life. It’s a fifty-fifty; half of the people I know like me, and half of them despise my existence and really loathe me as a person. She mustn’t understand what it’s like in school and college._

You go over what you just said, mind ticking over your own words curiously.

_“I seem to be pretty bad at dealing with girls in general…”_

_Hm. Maybe that’s why most of the threats and issues, fights included, have been between me and girls. I’ve spent so much time with the boys that I’ve sort of estranged myself from them. I rarely deal with them, so maybe they don’t like me because of that. I’ve made a rift between me and them without realising it._

It makes so much sense. You shake your head, amazed by your own realisation.

“Come on, ___! Let’s have a look around, okay? Any shade of blue, and any length – you’re the only one in the bridal party, so I don’t care in the slightest which you choose. It’s all up to you!” Your mum chirps, taking your hand and tugging you deeper into the shop. As you’re pulled past the woman who helped your mum, she gives you a bright smile, inclining her head. You smile back, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

_Am I really so different? Just because of the people I’ve spent my life growing up with, does it really distance me from them so much? To the point where I should be hated for it?_

That sure as hell doesn’t seem right to you.

Regardless, you force the thought back, focusing instead on the matter at hand. As your gaze turns upon the immense collection of dresses, you shake your head, thinking cynically,

_Huh. Lucian is something old, Xander and Tobias are something new, my boys are something borrowed, and I’m something blue._

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	7. Part VII | Noon | Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

You realise immediately after you begin looking that shopping is a lot harder than you thought.

There’s so much choice, so many styles and necklines, lengths and designs, even just in blue. You struggle to isolate any that you like in particular because they’re all so beautiful, and are starting to lose the will to live when you stumble upon a particular number, almost hidden amongst the ocean of other blue gowns. It catches your eye immediately, drawing your attention.

It’s a deep, royal blue, rich in colour and intense in tone. Knee-length, it’s a chiffon dress, the material light and flowing, almost like water with the colour. With a sweetheart neckline and no straps, the bodice curves in at the waist. There, there’s a band of silver jewels, set out in an elegant but simple design, accentuating the shape already created by the layered skirts and neckline.

_Wow…_

The thought has barely crossed your mind when your mum sneaks up behind you, tucking her arms around your middle and propping her head up on your shoulder. Beaming brighter than ever, she gazes down at the dress with love, whispering, “It’s you, ___. It’s all you.” She takes it off the rack, singing, “Let’s go try it on.”

Apparently, it’s appropriate for a wedding, then. You thank your stars.

She guides you over to the changing rooms, where another assistant is waiting. She grins upon seeing the dress. “Ah, a lovely choice! Very elegant, but modern.” She shows you to a free room, pulling back the white curtain. “Would you like help with putting it on? It’s a corset back, and a flipped one at that, so it’ll be difficult tying the laces up yourself.”

Your heart stutters. Thankfully, your mum responds, assuring her, “She’s a bit shy, thank you – I’ll help her if she needs it.”

The assistant just nods. “Of course. Let me know when you’re done, so I can help with anything else.”

Your mum thanks her again, and you step into the room with a grateful glance at her. She just winks, shutting the curtain over.

You strip down to your underwear, temporarily taking your knife holster off but leaving your butterfly on. You step into the dress, pulling it up.

But as it reaches your hips, your eyes rise to the mirror. You freeze.

Your abdomen is almost entirely a dark, murky purple colour, your bruises more prominent than ever. You thought it was bad when they were red and pink, but now, seeing them so aggressive, such an inhuman shade of purple, it’s horrific. You hate Adalicia and Saber, you decide, even more than you did yesterday. Who gave them the right to do this to you?

“___, I’m coming in! I’ll help you with the back, since it will be really hard to do up the top part.” Your mum calls through the curtain.

Groaning internally, you move so that you won’t be seen as she peeks around the material, then slips inside, closing it over again. She turns to you, and immediately goes still, eyes settling on your stomach. Her face falls, the same horror you feel showing in her expression.

You sigh softly, tone gentle when you murmur, “If you had waited until I told you to come in, you wouldn’t have seen them.”

She shakes her head, gazing down at the bruises with a crestfallen, forlorn look. She steps up to you as you start to tug the dress up, catching your hands. She very lightly places her hands on the discolouration, fingers cold against your warm abdomen, before she traces her thumbs over the bruising. “You don’t need to hide them from me, ___. It’s not your fault at all. I’m just sorry there are people in the world who’d do this to you.”

You try to smile, easing the dress up anyway and obscuring the marks. You bring it up until the bodice fits against your chest, and your mum moves behind you, reaching down for the laces of the corset. She starts to tighten them, causing it to constrict around your stomach and breasts, but you notice that she’s very gentle with the abdominal area.

“You know,” She muses thoughtfully. “When I was looking at the bruises just then, it was almost like you were pregnant. It’s probably a mother thing, but it made me so happy, imagining having a grandchild.”

You imagine she thinks nothing of saying that. You imagine she just sees it as a passing thought, an absent, innocent comment, and to most other people, to you if said a year ago, even, it would be just that. Unappreciated or unwanted, probably, but not majorly offensive or upsetting.

But now, it hurts. God, it really, really hurts you, striking deep in your heart hard enough to stifle any response you might have had.

It hurts for two reasons.

The first is that, just from your own thoughts and mind alone, you don’t want children. At least right now, you don’t want to have to take responsibility for another life that can’t handle itself in any way, shape or form. You feel awkward around children, at least ones under the age of about ten or eleven; so many times in the past, when you’ve had to interact with them on jobs or because of the academy, it’s made you feel so uncomfortable that you’ve deliberately removed yourself from the situation to avoid having to do it. You can work with people your age and up perfectly fine, even though you struggle a bit with elderly people.

But children are something else. Children just, right now, seem like something that would obstruct you from living your life at your own pace, with complete freedom. So, to imagine having them, even just one, it’s almost sickening to you.

And then there’s the second reason; the boys.

You’re in a polyamorous relationship. As much as you truly, genuinely believe and trust in that you will stay with the boys for the rest of your life, happy with them, as the arrangement progresses over time and with work from you all, it wouldn’t work. Having a child, you think, would be such a problem – be it through birth or adoption, who would be the legal father? Who would be the one to go with you to its parents’ evenings in school? Where would it stay? Would you need to buy a house of your own, just to raise the child? Or would you raise it on your own? Assuming all of the boys wanted to act as its father, where would they stay?

And, if the child were to be borne from you, how would it be conceived, when you haven’t even worked out if the relationship would  _ever_  be able to cope with you having sex, or even just doing anything sexual, with the boys? That’s not something you have much faith in at all.

As you consider this, you realise that even marriage is off the cards for you all now. You never had much interest in it in the first place, since you think that declaring your love for someone to the world publicly does little to actually prove anything, and that it seems somewhat pointless to do so in such an extravagant manner.

However, even if you end up coming around to the idea in the future, you can’t. You can’t marry nine people; you’re pretty such it’s illegal in the majority of countries, and most definitely in all of the countries in the region, meaning the likes of Wysteria, Stein, Laurelia, Protea, Fairmark, Carallia, Lindera, Alder and Darmera, along with several other, less notable ones.

By choosing to be with you, because you couldn’t choose one of them, they’ve practically had to give up the chances of having children and getting married.

It’s crushing. The immense, destructive guilt that consumes you is overwhelming, and makes you feel physically sick.

“All done!” Your mum cheers, fastening the laces at the back.

You force back your emotional crisis, trying to shake off her unsettling words, before pushing a smile onto your face.

Now that the dress is on, you love it even more; it fits you well, complementing and showing off you figure without overdoing it or exposing too much. It flatters your shape, the colour helping to give a more dramatic effect, and the dusting of jewels across your stomach gives it a final, gorgeously elegant touch.

“What do you think?” Your mum asks, rubbing her hands up and down your arms. You nod, the smile becoming more genuine by the second.

“I love it. I really, really love it. Is it okay for me to get it?” She grins, practically vibrating where she stands. Then, she turns around to open the curtain, answering,

“Of course! I’d kill you if you gave me a reason not to buy it. It’s perfect for you, ___, and you love it. That means I want you to have it.” She gestures to the assistant, whose mouth drops open, before she giggles and runs over. She marvels at the dress, cooing,

“Oh, it’s beautiful! It’s perfect for your frame, and the colour is just stunning on you! I love it!” She reaches out hesitantly, giving you a briefly questioning look. “May I touch you, just to make sure it fits properly? We can make alterations if you need them.”

You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

She returns the nod, fingers prodding and testing at the dress in various places. She tugs at the skirts here and there, checking the length, before focusing on the bodice. She feels around, checking the fit on your waist. You’re not particularly concerned about this, thinking nothing of the contact, even as you lift your arms to let her do it.

That is, until she presses her palm flat against your stomach, hard.

Pain erupts through your abdomen, and you can barely silence the hiss of pain that attempts to escape from your throat. Turning your face to the side, you send your mum a pained look, using your arm to hide your expression from the woman. Your mum’s eyes go wide as the woman presses again, this time with her thumbs, and your teeth sink into your lip.

“Okay,” The woman hums, head drifting up and down. She smiles approvingly. “I’m happy with this. How do you feel yourself, hun?”

You try not to sound like you’re in agony when you reply. “Really good. I love it – I think it fits perfectly.”

“Fab. Same here.” She straightens up, releasing you, before she plants her hands on her hips. “Although, you’re better off wearing a strapless bra with it, of course. Do you have one?”

You don’t, now that you think about it. Your mum is quick to respond, seizing the opportunity she’s presented with. “No, she doesn’t. Do you sell them in here?” At the woman’s nod, she grins, giving her your bra size. “Would you be able to see if there’s any in her size, please?”

“Of course!” She responds, all but prancing off into the shop to look.

As soon as she’s gone, your mum yanks the curtain over halfway, and you lean back against the wall of the changing room heavily. “Oh my God,” You moan quietly. “I’m usually pretty good with pain and have a high tolerance for it, but wow, that hurt.”

She rushes over to you, ghosting her hands over your waist again. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I didn’t want to say anything in case she started asking more questions. Are you okay?”

You bat her hands away, feeling increasingly uncomfortable considering her observation earlier about pregnancy. “Yeah, I’m fine. She didn’t know.”

She still looks to some extent concerned, but she relents, letting you go.

The woman brings you a bra to try on, which you put on under the dress, testing its fit. It feels better now that your bra straps aren’t showing – somehow, it just finishes the look off. Happy with it, your mum tells you to take them off, and the woman informs her that all of the dresses in the shop have shoes which match them while you do. Changing back into your clothes, you leave your jeans pulled up, and the woman brings you the shoes in, having gotten your size from your mum.

They’re wedges, not too high but enough to be comfortable, of the same royal blue. They wrap around the tops of your feet, then your ankles, and have the same jewel effect scattered up the backs of them. You think they’re beautiful, and that they’re extremely comfortable when you put them on, the wedge not too steep and the material not too stiff.

You have an experimental walk in them, and, at the instruction of the assistant, a little dance as well, to make sure you can survive a wedding in them. Content with them, you take them off, and your mum collects everything, taking it to the counter to pay.

You put your shoes and socks back on, checking your phone. There are various messages from the boys, and you find yourself grinning just a little as you read through them, several in particular catching your eye.

**_The Master of Paint:_ ** _Are you alright from earlier? How is shopping going?_

**_Kickass Informant:_ ** _You deserve an award for that speech, ____ ;) we’re all good here, we’re being civil don’t worry_

**_Bunny Man:_ ** _Have you recovered from earlier? You hardly had enough time to calm down. Let me know as soon as you are able to, so that I may report to Byron._

You snicker at the last one.

_Sure, Albert. Sure, you just want to know for Byron’s sake._

Done with getting dressed, you throw your coat back on, then reply to all the messages as swiftly as possible. You leave the changing room and head for your mum, waiting at the front of the shop. Beaming, you give her a tight hug. “How great are we, getting me sorted in one shop?” Pulling back, you offer to take the bag with your things, and she hands it over appreciatively. “Thank you, mum.”

“You’re very welcome. I hardly get to spoil you and dress you up, so believe me when I say this is for me as well.”  She replies, opening the door and walking out. You follow, laughing quietly.

“And that’s perfectly fine with me.” Heaving out a breath, you raise your eyebrows. “Now, for the main event. Where to first?”

Her eyes sparkle. She catches your free hand, and you start to dread the next few hours. “Everywhere.”

**♡** **♔** **♡**

She wasn’t kidding.

It’s been three hours, seven shops and countless dresses since you got yours in one go, and she still hasn’t chosen one or even come close to it.

You all but collapse onto the couch in the last shop in town, a bigger, more professional one, with white furniture, decorations, accessories, wedding gowns and shoes everywhere. There are less staff around, but the shop is busy, many brides no doubt shopping for their spring or summer weddings like your mum. You’ve managed to get in, and find a spot to sit in, while your mum tries on the dresses here.

She immediately goes into the collections to pick and choose what she wants to have a look at. You flop against the back of the couch, dragging your phone out of your pocket and lifting it up in front of your face, as it vibrates with a call.

“Actual Einstein”, which would be Leo. You sigh with relief, answering it. “Hello?”

“Hey, Baby.” He greets back, albeit quietly, but in a teasing tone. Your insides flutter, heart skipping just a bit, at the nickname, and you press your hand to your mouth to hide the huge grin that spreads across your lips. “How’s everything going? Are you dead yet?”

“Yep.” You sigh out, removing your hand. “We’ve been in seven shops, and are onto the eighth and last one. I’m ready to have my funeral and hop into my own coffin right now, I’m not even joking. I’m so tired.” You shake your head. “How’s it going on your end?”

He chuckles. “We just finished up. We’ve all got our suits chosen and measured, and so have Xander and Tobias, as well as Lucian. He’s glad it’s over – you should have seen his face when they were getting all close and personal to measure him, so he can get his .”

You giggle at the thought, to which he laughs himself again, before asking, “Where are you? We’re all desperate to just sit down and rest, and the other three are going to get something to eat and drink, but we’d really rather get back to you two. We’ve all been civil, but there’s a certain element of awkward that’s been there all day and we’d really rather leave.”

You peer at the signs and advertisements around the room, having not looked at the shop’s name when you dragged yourself inside. “We’re in Madame Latoure’s. You know, the massive bridal shop on the main shopping strip in the centre?”

You can hear the sound of the others now in the background, as well as wind.  It sounds like they’re walking. “Yep, I got you. Ooh, that’s fancy, right?” You roll your eyes. “We’re not that far away, so we should be there in literally about two minutes. You made a circle back to us, since we only ended up going to one shop.”

You hear what sounds like Sid muttering something, then Nico whining, the noise unclear, before there’s a quiet slap. “Oi,  _my_  phone. Shush.” Leo sighs. “Sorry about that. Sid and Nico are trying to steal my phone. Hang on.”

You hear him moving quickly, his breathing picking up a bit, while his footsteps become louder. His heavier breaths make you feel strange, for some reason, and you actually find yourself blushing from listening to them. “Okay, I’m safe. I’m guessing you’ve got your dress?”

You nod, even though he can’t see it. “Yeah, and I’ve got shoes as well, so I don’t have to get anything else now. I got it all done in the first shop we visited.”

He hoots, voice impressed. “Wow, that’s amazing! Usually it takes a few shops before you find what you want!” He praises, causing another silly little grin to grace your lips. You try to keep yourself calm, feeling more and more desperate, yearning harder and harder, to see them. “What’s it like? Wait, is it a secret?”

Your mum said you can show them it if you want, and that it’s entirely up to you. You decide to tease him a bit. “Hm… it doesn’t have to be a secret, but I might need a bit of incentive to spill what it’s like. Maybe I’ll even put it on for you all, if you’re nice.”

You can practically feel his smirk forming. “Oh?” His voice drops, tone lowering, becoming smooth and sexy, purring out, “Well then, we’ll all have to make sure we’re just irresistibly nice to you, won’t we?”

Your cheeks are burning. You regret teasing him now. “Um… yeah…”

He bursts into laughter. “Aw. You tried, Princess. It was a good attempt. However…”

He goes silent for several seconds. You tilt your head, confused. “Leo?”

Warm, familiar arms clamp around your shoulders. Leo leans down, his lips find your ear, and then he’s whispering huskily, “You’re far too innocent to be able to tease me like that.”

With that, he drops a kiss on your head. Walking around the large couch, he comes to drop down beside you. The others emerge from either side, sitting down as well. Somehow, they all manage to squish in, although it’s an extremely tight fit. They all lean around each other to look at you, and Sid, on your left, drops his hand onto your knee. “You look like death. Has she dragged you all around Wysteria yet?”

You nod. “Yep. We’ve been to all seven of the other bridal shops, and I think she’s tried on at least fifty dresses.”

They all pale a little at that, some looking more than a bit perturbed. Leo tucks his arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “Poor Princess. At least we’re here now for moral support, and so she doesn’t just look to you for advice.”

You lean into him, dropping your head into the crook of his neck and shoulder with a grateful nod. “Yep. Thank God for you all existing, or else I think I’d die, doing this again.”

Leo kisses your head again, murmuring, “You’re welcome. As compensation, since being here is really nice of us,” You smirk. You can feel him doing the same. “How about showing us your dress?”

Sid leans over now, whispering into the shell of your ear, “Or, better yet, showing us it  _on you_?”

Your cheeks flush a deep crimson. Normally, you’d be opposed to doing something like that, but… weirdly, you want to. You want them to see how it looks. Maybe it’s because you’re their girlfriend now, and you’re more aware of how you look around them, despite knowing that they love you regardless of your appearance.

So, you hum, musing, “Maybe. We’ll see how mum does.”

Said woman emerges after a few more minutes, clad in a floor-length mermaid gown, white and made of satin, cascading down her body in a clockwise spiral. It’s nice, you think, but she suits something a bit more traditional, as opposed to the rather low-cut neckline. The assistant who went in to help her comes out as well, looking rather haggard and stressed out.

Every single assistant, in all of the shops, has ended up looking the same. You send her a sympathetic, apologetic look, mouthing, “Sorry.”

She just shakes her head. “Right. So, this is one she  _really_  likes, even though there are another eight so far that she  _really_  likes.”

Your mum looks mortified. “Sorry. They’re all just so beautiful.”

The assistant just gives her a long, intense glower, then turns her gaze on the boys. “Family? Family friends? Just friends? Soon-to-be family?” Her gaze homes in on Leo. “Boyfriend?”

Your heart plummets into your stomach.

Instinctively, you go to sit up straight and move out from your position against him, but he moves his arm to hook around your middle, keeping you close and tucked into his side. He smiles charmingly, answering, “Nope. Family friend.”

_Well, you’re not wrong, technically, even though you are actually wrong. You’re a boyfriend, but you’re family too. That’s probably the best option to pick of the three, for the sake of the relationship._

The assistant nods slowly. “Uh huh.” She gestures around the rest of them. “So, who are all of you to the bride?”

Byron answers now, stating confidently, “Family friends.”

Your mum winks, nodding. You sigh, shaking your head, but you can’t stop your smile.

“Well,” The assistant starts, scrutinising the dress. “What do you think about it, Miss? Your opinion is the most important.”

Your mum spins around, studying the dress from different angles. “I think it’s gorgeous. Like I said, I love it.”

The woman drags a hand down her face. “It’s not about whether you think it’s nice or not – it’s whether you think it’s  _you_  or not. You said you’ve been married before?” Your mum nods. “Well, what did you wear then?”

Your mum dances over to the table in front of the couch daintily, retrieving her phone from her bag. She unlocks it, then shows the woman it after opening something. “That.”

The assistant looks about as impressed as teachers do with students who turn up for lessons once a week. “Oh dear. Now I see why you’re like a kid at Christmas.” She shakes her head, waving her hands dismissively. “Okay, let’s start from the top. Tell me about your wedding – theme, feeling, atmosphere, colour, size, style, everything.”

Your mum starts to do this, rattling on to the woman. Sid prods your knee, drawing your attention to him. “Seriously, let us at least see the dress. I’m nosy.”

Your mum hears this, apparently, and waves at you all mid-sentence, much to the frustration of the assistant. “___, you could try it on if you want, with the shoes this time! It might help me to visualise the wedding and the dress I want if you’re in yours!”

Well, decision made, then.

You groan, but you stand up anyway, picking the bag up. “You all owe me big time. I’m dead on my feet here.”

You head into the dressing room your mum is allowed to use, where there’s at least nine wedding gowns hung up on a large rack to the side of the room.

Shaking your head, you throw your clothes off quickly. You take your butterfly off for the moment, hiding it with your knives, in the dress’ box. Avoiding looking at your bruises, you step into the dress with the new bra on, then do your best to tie the laces up yourself. You struggle at the top, however, and curse the designer for putting them in using such a backward pattern. “Oh, come on. Ow…”

It’s at this point that there’s a knock at the door. You nearly jump out of your skin, exclaiming, “Yeah!”

There’s a low laugh.

“It’s just me, Princess. Your mum said you’d need help with the laces. Can I come in? I won’t look, so I can still be amazed when you walk out like a model in a minute.”

Leo. Oh, you could kill him. Him, and that smart, witty, beautiful, lovely mouth of his…

You can’t do it yourself. You bite your lip for a second before relenting. “Yeah, come in.”

The door opens, then shuts. He walks in, covering his eyes, before coming to a stop. He grins. “Here, just come over and show me where they are, so I won’t risk looking.”

You’re smiling. You can’t help it.

Doing as he says, you pad over, bare-foot, and turn around in front of him. You reach back to take his hands, warm and big and strong in your own, before lifting them to the laces. You use your arms to artfully prevent it from falling in the process, and sigh with relief when he takes hold of them, allowing you to hold it on yourself. He takes the laces in one hand.

Then, the other drifts down your spine, touch able to be felt through the material. You shiver, feeling him tracing his fingertips over the corset back, right to the low of your spine. His body moves closer, and his lips find your hair, while he breathes out, “Do you need me to tighten the bottom part as well?”

You need him to kiss you, that’s what you damn well need.

Controlling yourself, you heave in a deep breath. “Yes please. Thank you, Leo.”

A soft kiss is pressed to your hair. You watch his expression in the mirror, his eyes safely closed, nose buried in your hair. His fingers find the laces at the bottom and start to tighten them, working their way up. “As you wish. You’re very welcome.”

The dress tightens around your body, and somehow, it feels sensual. Your eyes become lidded, entranced by the sight of him pulling the dress taught around you, when paired with the heat of his body against your back and his breathing against your hair. His lips travel around your head, until they settle against your ear, where they rest for a brief moment. You shudder, shivers wracking your frame, at the sensation of the him tightening the topmost laces, then tying them there. He nuzzles his lips and nose into the skin of your ear, kissing the space behind it very softly.

“There. All done.” He whispers.

His fingers release the laces, but then they ghost to the sides of the dress, very lightly trailing down until they reach your hips. His touch makes your flesh feel like it’s on fire, warming and smouldering under his magic hands. His lips suck ever so slightly at the skin behind your ear, and then he’s moving his hands again, bringing them around to rest on your stomach. He coaxes you back, against him, closer than ever. Your breath catches, eyes sliding shut completely.

“Chiffon…” He mumbles, kissing your earlobe. He feels upward, slowly, palm travelling up your abdomen to your waist. He pauses at the jewels, tracing his fingertips over the pattern, mapping it out by touch alone. “Decoration… diamonds, maybe… or jewels or some sort…”

His lips cascade, curving from your ear around your jaw, then down your throat and to your shoulder. He kisses across the skin, then down to your collarbone, craning his head over to paint the delicate flesh with attention. “And no straps. God, baby, this is killing me. You’re must look even more stunning than you always do.”

He tightens his grip on you, lips returning to your neck. He finds your pulse point, almost pleading, “Princess… ___… tell me to stop. I really, really don’t want to let you go.”

You don’t want him to either, but you can’t afford to do this. Not here, not now, and not like this. It’s dangerous in far too many ways.

So, you wrench your mind from the haze of pleasure he’s thrown you into, forcing yourself back into awareness.

Your eyes flutter open. Just seeing him so close, kissing your throat to heaven and back, embracing you so hard, is enough to make your knees weak. Pushing through the sensations assaulting your body, your hand drifts up. You tilt your head to the side, so that his lips are no longer attached to your neck. When he chases after it, his mouth lands against your palm instead, and your fingers rest against his cheek.

“Leo, stop. No more.”

He halts instantly. It’s so clear to see the power that rule one has on them.

Your word is final.

He swallows hard, expression contorting with what almost looks like pain. Your gaze softens, but you ease his hands away from you, your own sliding up to cup his face instead. “Go. I’ll be out in a minute. Wait in the hallway for a second.” Your lips curl up, graced by an angelic smile. “You’re blushing.”

He sighs, but he ends up smiling as well. He does a one-eighty, so he’s facing the door before making his way over to it and slipping out.

_Oh my God. He can’t just do that to me, not in a place like this!_

You collapse to the floor, needing a minute to calm down. Your heart is hammering in your chest, skin flushed with blood, and your muscles and nerves are in chaos from adrenaline. Forcing in deep breaths to calm the reactions of your body, you drag your shoes over and put them on, focusing on them as opposed to the memory of his lips on you.

_Not now. This is mum’s day. This is not the time to be focusing on kissing the shit out of the boys… and vice versa._

Skin now normal and heartbeat slower, you slap at your face, waking yourself up from your pleasure-induced haze. Nodding, you steel your mind, then open the door and walk out.

Emerging from the hallway leading to the room in the dress, you don’t really know what to expect.

What you get, however, is certainly  _not_  what you expect.

All of the boys’ mouths pop open, in some cases wide like Nico, and in some cases subtly, like Byron. Their eyes practically become glued to you, studying every inch of your body, from your neck and shoulders to your arms, your waist and hips, your legs and wedge-clad feet.

Perhaps, you think, they’re reacting a bit too strongly for supposed “family friends”.

“Ahh, look at you!” Your mum cries, shuffling over in her dress to get a better look at you. She practically bounces, hands waving about with excitement. “Twirl! Come on, just one! Let us see what it’ll look like when you’re dancing!”

You curse at her inwardly. Great, you’re going to twirl and probably expose more of your thighs to the boys who are in reality your boyfriends. Way to minimise the chances of something slipping.

You do as she says, spinning around where you stand and throwing your hands up while you do. The chiffon skirts flutter around your legs like wings, flowing and elegant. The movement causes the jewels on the waist to catch the bright lights of the shop, glittering away around your waist magnificently.

You come to a stop, huffing and brushing your hair back. Your eyes fixate on your mum; you can’t bear to see the expressions the boys have. “Is it helping with the visualisation?”

Her head bounces up and down vigorously. “It is. Hang on; there’s another dress I think I actually might consider choosing. Stay there!”

With that, she rushes off to the changing room. You stare after her, incredulous at how much of a blast she’s having and how she doesn’t quite seem to be taking this seriously. The assistant shakes her head, groaning out, “Is she always like this?”

You rub the back of your neck guiltily. “Not really. She’s not normally this animated, at least. She’s sort of been acting like this all day – I think she’s just really excited. Sorry.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Trust me, I’ve had worse.” Her eyes roam up and down your body now, and suddenly you feel like you’re a test paper about to be marked. “You do look stunning in that, though.”

She circles you, eyes taking in every part of the dress carefully. “Wear some simple, silver jewellery. Do what you like with your hair, but not too strict. Accessorise it, but not to the point of overkill; just a silver clip with jewels or diamonds will do, to bring out the ones on your waist.”

She eyes your face now, almost leering at you. “You’ve got a lot of natural beauty. No heavy makeup at all; keep it calm and classy. Just a touch of eyeliner, eyeshadow and mascara, standard skin stuff if you feel like it, and lip gloss. Nothing more.”

She reaches out, taking your left earlobe in between her thumb and forefinger. You jump, startled, but she doesn’t seem to notice at all. “Small, silver earrings. No loops. Studs would be wise. If you use colour in your jewellery, keep it consistent. Match everything, and put silver everywhere else. Understood?”

You’re almost afraid of her now. You nod swiftly. “Yes.”

She grunts, letting you go and staking off to the changing room. “She’s probably trying something on that’s not even a wedding dress and crying about it being gorgeous… oi, I’m coming in!”

She goes inside, leaving you and the boys in complete, stunned silence.

_What a woman._

You gradually turn around, facing the boys once more. They’re still staring at you, and you’re beginning to feel seriously nervous. You head over to them, arms crossing over themselves habitually. “Um… guys? Earth to boys? You’re starting to make me worry here. Say something, please.”

Immediately, you get nine responses, all at once, in an eruption of awed, astonished, astounded voices.

Giles. “Magnificent…”

Byron. “Beautiful.”

Robert. “Absolutely stunning.”

Leo. “Out of this world… there aren’t enough words.”

Alyn. “Whoa. Amazing…”

Sid. “Freaking gorgeous.”

Louis. “Heavenly, like an angel.”

Albert. “Incomparably wonderful.”

Nico. “So pretty… it’s breath-taking.”

Cue your body giving you a free blush.

Your hand flies up, covering your face; your skin is burning with embarrassment, and you sort of wish – while you very much don’t – that you hadn’t asked them. You can barely speak, mind whirling and brain struggling to keep up with it. “T-Thank you. Um…”

Giles shakes his head, smiling majestically. “I think it should be impossible, if not at least illegal, for one person to wield such beauty and adorableness.”

Bryon grins beatifically. “Agreed. She looks inhuman, almost like a deity.”

Sid’s eyes are making laps over your form, and it’s only making your blush more and more aggressive by the second. “I ain’t religious by miles, but hell, if she made one, I’d follow it for life.”

You’re ready to explode. You let out a strange little noise, sort of a strangled scream, face buried in your hands. “Stop it! I can’t… oh my God.”

The nine burst into howls of teasing, boyish laughter.

Seeing you turning worryingly red, Nico and Byron share a look amidst their laughter. Byron nods, and Nico bounces up, then hops over to you. He takes your wrists, easing your hands away from your burning face before he replaces them with his own.

“Princess,” He murmurs, leaning down so his face hover before yours. When you keep your eyes lowered, too embarrassed to look at him, he giggles, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re too beautiful for us. We’re sorry; you just so lovely.”

Straightening up, he curls his arm around your waist, walking you over to the couch around the table. He sits down, tugging you down to sit next to him, Byron on your other side. You cover your face again, still feeling the immense heat collecting in your cheeks, but Nico just hums and tucks you against his side. Byron’s fingers slip under your hand against your cheek, sliding through your own before tugging your hand onto his lap. He massages the top of it with his other, still grinning away, the rare expression gorgeous in itself.

Ten minutes later, your mum comes out in another dress. This time, it takes  _your_  breath away. It feels right. It looks like her, feels like her. Instantly, you love it on her, and you can see that she loves it too.

It’s floor-length and white, with a sweetheart neckline and a simple shape, with no additional decoration accentuating the waist but the shape of the bodice itself. This flows into the simple skirts, which flow out from her and onto the floor. This in itself would be too simple, but it’s not a problem; the entire dress is covered in a beautiful, white lacing, patterned with flowers, swirls and leaves, giving the dress an elegant, traditional but still stylish air to it. The lacing comes up above the dress, fitting around the upper arms and shoulders, then across the chest up to her collarbone. It comes down as lacy sleeves, the flowers almost swirling and cascading down her arms.

It’s so beautiful. You have to take a moment to stare at it, just appreciating it.

Your mum beams, looking really, truly happy in this one. She steps up in front of the mirror, and the assistant emerges now, looking smugly satisfied. She gives you a thumbs-up, to which you give her one back, hands flying up to hide your own speechless smile.

“What do we think?” You mum asks, hands clasped together in front of her face. There are nods all around from the boys, and Giles is the first to give a verbal response.

“It’s absolutely beautiful. It looks wonderful.” He says. She grins even more, and Robert continues, elaborating,

“And I think you love it as well, which means that it’s definitely the right one. If it looks and feels right, it is.” She nods, ecstatic. Her eyes settle on you.

“Well?”

You push up from the couch, all but flying up onto the platform and sprinting over to her. She opens her arms, letting you launch yourself at her, trapping her in a gripping bear hug. She chuckles, cradling you against her, and you nod fiercely into her shoulder.

“I love it, and I love that you love it even more. I think this is it.” You pull back, holding her shoulders, while she does the same with you. “Is this your dress?”

She all but screams, crying out, “This is my dress!”

There’s a cheer from you all, and the assistant looks like she’s about to pass out. The boys clap, Leo and Nico standing up to bounce over to you both. They both hug your mum and congratulate her, and then Nico spins around to you, sweeping you off your feet in a tight, twirled hug. Confused but not opposed in the slightest, you giggle and let him whirl you around, dress fluttering around your legs. He sets you down after a few seconds, and your mum tugs you to be in front of her, hugging you from behind while you both stare into the mirror.

“I can see it. It’s perfect; it’s what I want.” She breathes out. You beam, resting your hands on top of her arms.

“Then it’s what you’ll have.” You confirm. The assistant comes over now, heaving out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Right. Let me have a better look at you, in case there’s alterations needed. Let your daughter go, please.” Your mum does as she says, raising her hands in surrender, to which you grin and laugh once more. Nico catches your hand, and your eyes meet his as he beams, chirping,

“Why don’t you get dressed while your mum’s getting the dress checked? Then we can all go and get something to eat afterward.” He suggests. At the mention of food, your head bounces up and down enthusiastically, and you squeeze his hand before letting go. Feeling their eyes on your back, you head into the changing room once more.

You take a good ten minutes to get changed out of the dress, tugging at the laces awkwardly until they come undone, before then switching back into your normal clothes. Hauling your shoes, butterfly and knives back on, then boxing the dress and shoes up again, you walk out, carrying your coat over your arm. Your mum, apparently finished talking about alterations, gives you a dazzling smile, heading off to change. The assistant massages her temples, stalking off toward the reception with a low,

“Remember what I said, missy. I’ll be seeing the pictures of the wedding afterward, so I’ll be looking for you. No heavy makeup.” You blanch, swallowing.

“Uh-huh. Understood.” She mutters something, leaving you with the boys.

You return to Nico and Byron, collapsing down onto the couch between them. Legs and feet starting to ache and feeling more exhausted by the second, your body sags to the side, torso leaning into Nico heavily. He seems delighted by this, turning slightly so you’re back against his chest instead, before tucking his arms around your stomach and propping his chin up on your head. Byron lifts your legs, draping them over his thighs, before starting to massage soothing, deep, therapeutic circles into your calves. You almost moan at the sensation, eyes sliding shut.

“Tired, Princess?” Nico whispers, lips millimetres from your ear. You shiver unintentionally, nodding.

“Yeah. I’m sort of dying – my legs and feet are killing me.” Feeling Byron pause, wonderful fingers stilling against your calf, your eyes open tiredly, gaze settling on him tenderly. “Please, don’t stop. That feels amazing; it’s really helping.”

He chuckles softly at that, looking satisfied. His hand slides over and around your right shin, fingers massaging your calf muscles deeply, while his other hand does the same with the inner muscles of the leg. The sensation is just heavenly on your tight, strained leg, and your eyelids slide closed again, a soft sound of relief spilling through your lips. He massages you carefully, obviously taking precaution and consideration so as to not hurt you or cause you additional discomfort, but he’s confident and firm in his touch, making you feel safe and secure.

Nico nuzzles his face into yours after a while, cuddling you like a teddy bear. A soft hum starts to purr out from him, rising from his chest, lulling and calming. You adore his voice so much, and when his hands curl around your own, warm, delicate fingers twining through your own, it’s like you’re in heaven.

Another ten or so minutes pass, and then your mother’s voice sounds, close to you. “Aw, look at her. She’s shattered, bless her. Let’s go and get something to eat – I’m just going to finish things up with ordering the dress, so why don’t you lot go down to the food court and choose somewhere to eat? I’ve already got things like accessories since I want to use some from my wedding with her dad, so after we eat, we can go home.”

Giles responds to this, assuring, “We can wait, worry not. We will remain here.”

She laughs, saying gratefully, “Thanks. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

It’s quiet for a few moments. Then, Nico starts to murmur in your ear, uttering ever so quietly and in a whisper, “You look so beautiful all of the time, ___, but you’re amazingly beautiful in that dress. You’re stunning. It’s almost not fair, taking our breaths and words away like that. I don’t know what I’m going to do when it’s the wedding, and your hair and makeup is done. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.”

You can barely breathe, heart pounding at his words and body flushing with heat at their meaning.

Thankfully, or perhaps not, your mum finishes quickly, like she said she would. She emerges and tells you all to get up, and you’re just about able to haul yourself up from Nico and Byron’s arms. Trying to declutter your mind and rid it of inappropriate thoughts or fantasies, you follow the boys downstairs with her, into the main food court. There, you all find seats, then disperse out to get food from the chains you want. You, Alyn, Albert and Byron stick with healthier options, while the rest of them elect for much less healthier ones.

There’s barely any conversation when you all return, munching, famished, on your food and downing your drinks. You hadn’t realised how parched you were, but now you practically inhale your water, finding immense pleasure at your body’s basic needs finally being satisfied.

Once you’re done, you collapse forward, face falling atop your arms on the table. Sighing contentedly, you close your eyes, almost moaning out, “Thank everything for food. I didn’t realise how hungry or thirsty I was.”

The others are in similar positions, relief, mild pleasure, satisfaction or joy at having eaten and having had drinks clear on their faces. Your mum is sat next to you, on your left, of the four-person table you’re on. Opposite you is Byron, Albert opposite your mum. On the table to your right are Nico, Leo, Sid and Louis, and then on the table to your left are Alyn, Giles and Robert.

Your mum hums gleefully, chirping, “Agreed. It’s a workout, shopping, especially for weddings.” Her hand settles atop your shoulder, rubbing it, while she coos teasingly, “I hope I’ll be able to see you in a wedding dress one day, of course.”

Ouch.

The hole you ripped open in your heart this morning is practically torn apart, all the pain and guilt you buried for her sake flooding back again.

“I don’t think so, mum.” You let her down gently, just a little bit of desperation seeping into your voice. “Somehow, I feel like it wouldn’t end up working out very well.”

_Please understand. For the love of all that’s holy, realise what I mean. Think!_

You can almost feel the confusion rolling from her. “What? Why not?”

You make a face, shoving your head into your forearms. “Considering a certain arrangement I have, don’t you think it’s a bit impossible?”

“No, of course not!” She chirps defiantly, patting your back. You cringe – she’s not even considering how this affects you in the slightest. “It’d be complicated, sure, but it’s not impossible!”

_Never mind the fact that it would be illegal, then, and that even if we could do it, we’d never be able to tell anyone about it._

Your heart aches. You swallow hard.

“Can we just… not talk about this, please?” You ask again, brushing off her hand.

Byron, opposite you, speaks quietly, tone respectful but firm. “It should be remembered, also, that this is not something to be discussed outside of permitted areas.”

You mum waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s fine. We’re in an open area, and none of you know anyone in here. If there was a security threat, we’d know about it – I’d know about it.” She leans down next to you, teasing, “Come on, I know you’re awfully shy and get embarrassed easily, but tell me. What sort of wedding would you want? Something small, maybe? Quite reserved, at least in size and theme, I’m guessing?”

You feel sick. Your mind is starting to feel the weight of guilt and shame from being the reason the boys will never have all of this. It’s almost like she’s trapping you, cornering you into answering questions you don’t want to answer in the slightest. “Mum, stop it. Please, I don’t want to talk about it…”

She sighs. “Oh, ___, come on. It’s nothing to get worked up about – I’m just curious! I’m sure the boys are, too.”

_Don’t you dare._

“Are you really sure, mum? Really?” Your head lifts, eyes homing in on hers, snapping to them sharply. The pain on your face is unmistakeable. “Are you sure talking about it wouldn’t make them uncomfortable at all?”

She frowns. She’s confused; she doesn’t understand at all. “Why on earth would it? All things considered, it should make them happy.” The frown deepens. “And why are you becoming so defensive all of a sudden? I’m only asking you a question. You don’t need to take it so seriously.”

_You really don’t understand at all. You’ve been different all day. You’ve been doing and saying things that have hurt me time and time again._

Biting back the harsh response that attempts to force its way up your throat, you shake your head, dropping your face into your hand. “Sorry. Please, let’s just talk about something else, okay?”

Her eyes are on you. You can sense it. “___, seriously, what’s gotten into you? You’ve been fine all day. How come you’re upset all of a sudden?”

Across the other table, Leo gives you a soft smile. “It’s okay, ___. We don’t mind. Right?” Alyn, Giles, Louis, and Sid all nod to that. Albert, Byron, Robert and Nico don’t.

Meanwhile, you’re ready to lose it. You decide to leave before you snap.

“Excuse me for a moment. I need to do something.” You excuse yourself quietly, avoiding looking at any of them as you stand up. Ignoring the dramatic sigh from your mum, you tuck your chair in, swipe your bag and throw your coat on, making your way out of the food court swiftly.

Truth be told, you’re close to crying. Your eyes are moist, breathing becoming jagged rapidly, while your chest is aching and you’re in emotional turmoil from guilt.

At the table, the others stare after you in alarm for a moment, nearly all of the boys rising once they realise you’re leaving. Albert, Byron, Nico and Robert are up first, though, and the Wagner heir wastes no time in taking control of the situation. He gives your mum a fierce stare, eyes becoming cold and sharp for the first time in a long time. “I would highly suggest that you consider the implications of your words, and mentions of such topics, to her. What you just suggested to her is nothing short of insulting.”

Your mum’s eyes go wide. “What?”

Albert scowls. Robert levels the others with a commanding, deadly-serious look, voice almost lashing out, whipping at their wills with an authoritative tone he very rarely feels the compulsion to use. “Sit down, all of you. We will go and see to it that she is alright. Consider what your own amenable attitudes might mean to her, and what the ideas stated might cause her to feel. We will return shortly.”

As Byron and Nico pretty much dart around the table, pursuing you, Albert sends a harsh glare around the table. “Do you really think such an idea is so simple? Consider, perhaps, the law first, and then the practical application of marriage in a situation like this. She will hardly emerge from such a thing unscathed. I’m thoroughly unimpressed that you all failed to realise this.”

With that, he and Albert sprint after Byron and Nico, leaving the rest of the group and your mum left, stunned and almost mortified by the swift turn of events.

By this point, you’ve reached the upper floor of the shopping centre, higher up than much of the city centre except for the skyscrapers. Leaning against the railings, you look out at the city below you, throat thick with emotion.

_I’m so sorry, boys. I’m sorry I’ve stolen your future from you to allow myself my own, selfish one. I’m sorry I’ve taken everything and given nothing. I’m sorry your ambitions have probably been ruined because of me._

A whimper builds in your chest. You stifle it, crushing your forehead against your forearms, resting atop the railings. Your chest is tight, almost choking you from the inside, and the pain only makes the tears come quicker. You squeeze your eyes shut, fingers curling into fists.

_I’m so sorry. I never wanted to cause the pain I have._

You don’t hear the footsteps approaching you around your loud, miserable thoughts. As such, you don’t realise the boys have found you until they touch you.

Warm, familiar hands ease you upright, then bring your hands down and away from your face. They wrap around you, tugging you into their arms.

You know it immediately. You know his touch.

_Byron._

He locks you there in his arms, embracing your waist and head, muffling the whimpers working their way out of your throat. His name starts pouring out of you like the tears streaming from your eyes, a mantra, a prayer, your own little way of begging him to help and forgive you. “Byron… B-Byron. Byron-”

“Hush. Enough, Sweetheart. I’m here.” He utters, using his body to shield and obscure you from the world. Your pleas fall silent, and he strokes your hair, the touch light. “I want you to cry, ___. You’ve been off all day, since this morning. You’ve dealt with a lot all at once, and I want you to talk about it once you’re better able to. For now, just let it out.”

You don’t want to. You feel like you’re always crying. “I don’t want to. I-I’m always… always crying-”

“___, I will tell you all of the times that I know you have cried, in the past few  _years_ , that any one of us has been able to know about – we have, for a long time now, always told each other when you have.” He sighs softly, feeling your hands balling into fists against his stomach.

“In January of 2014, you cried to Sid, when you thought he was leaving the group. That was our fault.” When you try to protest, he silences you, the hand on the back of your head stifling the objection by pressing it against his coat harder. “On the 21st of May 2014, you cried several times, and then numerous more in the months following, because your father died. That is normal. To cry with grief is very much a natural thing.”

You’re starting to sob by just hearing him reciting this; it upsets you, because he cares and loves you so much, he even remembers when these things have happened. “On the 19th of April 2015, a whole year later, you cried when you thought Albert, Nico and myself were leaving, and I hurt you in an attempt to save myself. That was our fault.” Another muffled objection. He closes his eyes. “In the coming week after that, you cried to Nico because of a severe migraine, something that’s not uncommon in most people.”

Albert, Nico and Robert have arrived now. They listen to Byron intently, watching you, witnessing you crying quietly into his chest. “On 2nd of July 2016, another year later, you cried after arguing with me in Stein over the ICAC and us trusting you with them, although it was to Giles. That was our fault.” You’re crying more violently now. His lips nuzzle against the crown of your head, breaths warm on your scalp when he murmurs, “You cried the day after that, when Louis almost kissed you after dancing with you, and he fought with Sid. That was our fault.”

He leans back, using the railing to support himself, and the others circle around him to hide you from sight. “And then, you cried once more the next day, when I told you we loved you; I heard you when I left the room. I’m assuming they were tears of joy, however.” You nod around sobs. He hums lowly. “The next time you cried was out of happiness, when your mother told you she accepted us. That was the 21st of August.”

He’s nearly done now, and you’re starting to run out of emotion to cry with. Your eyes start to dry up, but you still grip his jacket, clinging onto him. “Then, after that, the next occasion was on the first day of school, on the 1st of September. You cried to Leo and Sid because you were scared by the situation that had arisen that day, although it was no doubt stress from the note as well, that caused you to cry. They told us later on. After that, it was the next day, when I rather cruelly coerced you into telling us about the notes with Leo and Sid. That was our fault.”

His hands drift up to your face, sliding around your cheeks to cradle your face. He kisses your forehead very gently. “And now, a month later, you’re crying again. And I suspect that it is because of your mother today. However, before you tell us, I would like you point something out to you.”

He pulls back, wiping away the tear trails on your cheeks. “Since January 2014, you have cried a mere eleven times. That is not, in any way, shape or form, abnormal, at least not in terms of excessive crying. Statistically, it’s actually under the annual average by far, and so even with times that you may have cried where we have not been there, you cry a normal amount at most. Also, we’ve come to realise that you have a tendency to avoid crying until someone gives you an indication to. You always push it back as much as you can, but then cry as soon as someone tells you to.”

He leans in close, uttering, tone ever so tender, gentle and kind, “Does that sound to you like excessive crying? Does it seem unusual to you? It hardly does to me.”

Albert makes a sound of agreement. “It does not to me, either.”

Robert shakes his head. “Nor I.”

Nico does the same, gaze very soft. “It doesn’t sound abnormal to me. Plus,” He skips over, brushing your hair back and away from your face, tucking loose strands behind your ears. “Two of those times were happy tears – they don’t count, because happy tears are what we want. All those endorphins, with good emotions, are wonderful for you.”

When they put it like that, you realise that they’re very right. You don’t actually cry a lot at all. It just feels like it, because when you do, you just cry several times as opposed to once, and it’s usual because of something going on that you’re pushed to do it.

You nod, breathing in as deeply as you can and rubbing at your eyes. You feel better, and are glad they’re there, to listen to you. You think they already know and understand what’s going on, though, from the way they were acting at the table. “Thank you.” You sniff. “I got upset because… well, I feel like I’ve taken your futures away from you. With the thing, the whole arrangement…”

You speak quietly, and all four of them move in close so they can hear you. “Marriage can’t happen, not really. Neither can anything to do with kids. To take that away from you all, to save myself the pain of choosing one of you… it’s horrible. It’s an awful thing to do, and I’m so sorry. I never realised it. It didn’t occur to me how much I’m going to make you all suffer, and that you mightn’t have even realised it yourselves-”

“Stop right there, Princess.” Nico interrupts you gently, shaking his head once more. His earring sways with the movement, glinting in the afternoon sunlight. “You’re wrong. I hate to say it, but you’re completely off the mark with this once, Sweetie.”

You blink. “What? How? I have taken them from you. You can’t-”

“ _Princess_ ,” Nico insists, now taking hold of your face, cupping it in his warm hands. “We knew this. As soon as we speculated this plan for the first time, the point was raised. We know that all of that is probably impossible. We know we’ll probably never get it, but you need to realise something. We entered into this knowing all of that. We were fully aware of the consequences of the plan, and you also need to keep in mind that the plan itself was ours. We offered it to you, not the other way around. You can’t, by any sort of technicality, be at fault for this. You can’t be blamed.”

Robert picks up here, continuing, “And, for several of us at least, marriage and children isn’t something we were exactly hellbent on having even without this relationship in the picture. I know I wasn’t particularly worried about the prospect of not having children, even before this happened. And for those who were fonder of it, they came to terms with this a long time ago, ___. As soon as we all fell in love with you, we knew we would not end up having a traditional relationship if one at all.”

He smiles softly, reaching up to touch your cheek around Nico’s hands. “Essentially, you had nothing to take from us; we never had it. It may happen still, but the fact that it is so unlikely is ultimately down to us deciding to become this, not you agreeing to being a part of it.”

You’d never considered anything like this. You didn’t think they’d thought so far ahead, had planned and prepared for all of these inevitabilities. You hadn’t even considered them yourself.

“So… you’re all… okay with that? With potentially, and likely, never getting married or having children?” You confirm, eyes travelling around each of them gradually. They nod in turn, all smiling, even Albert, expressions sure and confident. You exhale slowly, finding it difficult to wrap your head around it. “Right. So I’ve been hating myself all day, and then just cried, for no reason.”

More nods. You groan, rubbing your hands over your face. Your thoughts return to the reason you actually ended up leaving the table, and you frown, muttering, “But even then, mum was pushing me too far. She needs to back off – talking about it made me so upset, and would have even if this wasn’t a thing.”

Nico rubs your arms soothingly, assuring, “We explained to them all that they hurt you by talking about it before we left. They’ll no doubt want to apologise when we get back.”

You nod to that, removing your hands and making sure your face is dry. You give yourself a few minutes to settle your breathing and puffy eyes, at which point you steel yourself, nodding once more. “Okay. Ready?”

Albert arches an eyebrow. “To be blunt, Princess, we should be asking you that.”

You make a face, but you end up smiling just a bit. “Yeah, probably. But then again, I never feel ready to face that woman after I argue with her.” Giving your cheeks a swift slap to bring yourself to attention fully, you head off in the direction you need to go in to return to the food court. “Let’s do this.”

The boys share dubious looks, but there’s fondness in there, of your strange, odd ways. Robert chuckles, laughing out, “That’s our Princess, running into battle no matter the state she’s in. Come.”

They follow you, caching up in seconds, and head downstairs with you leading them. When you get back and approach the table, the boys there are immediately standing or reaching out to you, murmuring your name with clearly remorseful eyes. You give them a small smile, sitting down again next to your mum. She stiffens, then cringes slightly, almost like a child that knows it’s done wrong. Her face in her hands, she avoids looking at you.

You do the same with her, instead turning to Louis when his fingers ghost against your arm. His expression is crestfallen, almost ashamed, cerulean eyes forlorn and devastated. “I’m so sorry, ___. I didn’t realise talking about that would make you feel that way. I wouldn’t have agreed if I had realised.”

You shake your head, reaching up to take his hand and squeeze it. “It’s fine, Louis. I assumed something and got myself upset, but thank you. Let’s just forget about it; I’ll explain later.” You glance around the rest of them. “Okay? For now, let’s just leave it alone.”

None of them object. You remain there for a little while longer, chatting until everyone’s ready to go, before getting up when Lucian calls. When you tell him everything’s sorted and done on your end, he instructs you to make your way back to the car park, since he and his boys are done eating. You tell him you’ll be there soon, relaying the words to the rest of the group.

Your mum still hasn’t looked at you. You don’t know whether it’s out of childish pettiness or shame.

You don’t hang around to find out, instead starting to make your way out of the food court with the boys. She comes with you, but stays a safe distance behind you, you notice. Byron gives you a knowing smile when you glance back at her, then slows to be walking next to her. Albert and Nico do the same, and they begin talking to her lowly during the walk back.

You leave them to it. You don’t want to be dwelling on this all day.

The others apologise profusely to you, of course, giving you fleeting touches on your hands, hair, face, arms and back. You assure them it’s fine and tell them to just leave it alone for now, that you’ll sort it out with them later.

Soon, you reach the car park, where Lucian, Xander and Tobias are waiting. As soon as they spot you, Xander’s expression collapses with relief, and even Tobias seems to become less tense. Lucian’s eyes home in on your mum, still walking with the three, before they settle on yours, silently asking what happened. You make your way over a bit faster than the boys, so you can let him know what’s gone on.

“We had a bit of a disagreement.” You murmur to him, standing close and tugging at his arm to get him to lean down to you; Xander and Tobias are way too close to risk speaking about it casually. “She kept talking about me getting married and didn’t realise that the whole situation with the boys makes that impossible, and then got annoyed when I was upset about it. I think she understands now, but she hasn’t spoken to me. I don’t want to fight with her, so I want to wait for her to approach me. Okay? Sorry. I tried to keep it peaceful, but she sort of went off on one about me being defensive.”

He nods in understanding. “She’s been acting strange all day. I think she’s secretly quite stressed about all this, probably because it’s quite emotionally draining to sort everything out, especially when she didn’t exactly divorce her last husband. Don’t worry about it – I’ll talk to her. You go with the boys.”

You make a sound of agreement. “Okay. Thank you.” He brings you into a brief but pleasant hug, and you smile into his chest. “Dad.”

He grins into your hair, giving you a squeeze. “You’re welcome, daughter.” You laugh a little at that, pulling back and stepping away from him. Xander bounds over to you now, opening his arms.

“I’m so sorry, ___.” He breathes out, scooping you into a tight, close hug. “We need to talk to you tonight, like you said, but I’m sorry for the way we behaved today. It was completely unfair and inappropriate to do that; we never, ever intended to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, hugging his neck hard and rubbing his back. “Xander, it’s fine, don’t worry. I understand – my whole friendship with the guys is a lot to adjust to, and get to grips with. It’s abnormal, I know. Trust me. Culture shock and all that.” You give him a wry smile, backing up and letting go. “We’ll talk tonight, yeah?”

He nods. Tobias moves in now, tugging you into a hug of his own. He doesn’t say anything at first, and you simply let him stand there, embracing you against him. Then, he sighs heavily, mumbling, “Sorry. I was an asshole before, and I had no right to be.”

You chuckle quietly, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Maybe just a bit.” Giving him a grin, you withdraw, poking his chest. “But you have reason. I understand why it’s hard to adjust, like I just said to Xander. We’ll talk about it tonight.” He seems satisfied with this, ruffling your hair and smiling slightly. You duck out from under his hand just as your mum ghosts past you, climbing into the passenger seat of Lucian’s car.

_Wow. She’s really ignoring me; either she’s drowning in guilt, or royally pissed._

Trying to ignore the anxiety caused by the thought of the latter, you head over to Sid’s car. Byron, Albert, Nico and Robert go for Byron’s, and you decide the drive back is an opportune time to explain things. You shout over to Byron while you hover near Sid. “Byron! I’m going to sort things out now, so I’ll ride with Sid.”

He gives an approving nod. “Alright. Are we returning to your house?”

You glance at your mum in the car. Her expression is unreadable. Turning instead to Lucian, about to get in, you gesture to the boys. He gives you an “Okay” signal, mouthing, “They can stay over.”

You give him an appreciative smile, mouthing back, “Thank you.”

Now, you turn to the rest of the guys, who’ve been watching this happen with pensive expressions. You gesture to Sid’s car. “We’re all in Sid’s car, if that’s okay.” Your eyes flick to said male, who nods. “I want to talk about what happened.”

They seem relieved at this. Everyone gets in the car, Sid in the driver seat, Giles in the passenger one, you and Louis in the middle row and Alyn and Leo in the back row. After being signalled by Lucian, Sid pulls out, Byron following, and drives through the car park. He glances at you in the rear-view mirror.

“You’d better start, so we don’t end up apologising for the wrong thing. I feel like this whole thing’s gotten real confused.” You sigh, head drifting up and down.

“Yeah, same. Basically, I got upset before because of a combination of things. Earlier today, when I was trying my dress on, mum was touching my stomach – the assistant sort of poked me hard when she was fitting it and it really hurt – and said that it was like I was pregnant. It made me realise, because I hadn’t really considered it up until that point, that having children, even though it’s never really appealed to me very much, isn’t an option for us now, not really.

“I sort of clicked on that none of you, if this relationship continues and we all stay together, well, forever, then none of you will be able to have children. Any way it could happen, I’m assuming it wouldn’t work for one way or another. That then made me think that, as well as with children, none of us can get married now. The thought that I’d taken that option and potential ambition away from all of you really hit me hard and shook me up, because I felt absolutely awful over it and the guilt was eating at me.”

Giles opens his mouth to speak, but you raise your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Hang on – let me finish. This whole time, I’d thought, more because I hadn’t even looked ahead that far, that none of you would have either. So, on that basis, when she brought it up in the food court, I was terrified. I was scared to death that it would upset all of you and make you uncomfortable, like I said, because I expected that it would occur to you all then. That’s why I was trying so hard to end the conversation, along with the fact that I was feeling guiltier by the second and was starting to really hate myself for choosing this.”

You heave in a breath, lungs burning just a bit from the long speech. “So, when she started getting prickly over my response, I left, because I was ready to burst into tears and didn’t fancy rowing with her there and then. I ended up crying with Byron, Albert, Robert and Nico upstairs, and explained all of this, but then they told me that you’d all considered this already. They told me about how all of you entered into this fully aware of what you were giving up, which I hadn’t known in the slightest prior to that.”

You take a minute to breathe, sighing out, “Don’t get me wrong, I still feel awful, regardless of how little factual blame lies on me, if there’s even blame to be had. Sorry – I can’t get rid of it. But, I realise now where you all stand, and that you’re all fully aware of how this will affect your futures. The way I saw it when I first realised this, I thought I’d stolen your futures from you for my own sake, but Byron told me that it’s not like that. The way I see it, it’s still definitely my fault at least a bit, but what I’m trying to say is…”

You collapse back against your chair, huffing out, “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t assumed things, what happened probably wouldn’t have happened, and you all have nothing to apologise for.”

For several heartbeats, it’s completely quiet.

Then, an insult flings itself at you from a certain brunette’s direction. “You’re a complete moron, ___.”

You whirl around, gaping at Alyn and whining, “What? Why? I finally understand everything now! I’m less stupid now than I was this morning!”

Sid snorts with laughter, quickly descending into full-on guffaws. “Oh my God. Princess, you’re priceless.”

Okay, this is just cruel. You feel like your emotions are the ball in the World Cup. “Can someone please explain why I’m being laughed at? This isn’t funny! What am I not understanding?”

Louis leans over now, catching your face in his hands and cradling your jaw. He turns you to face him, murmuring, “Princess, we have a lot to apologise for,  _because_  we knew more than you. We shouldn’t have been so complacent when your mum started talking about it. We knew that, even if you’d thought about this before, that you’d feel guilty. You’ve just said it yourself – even now you know we have no problem with not having marriage or children, you still feel guilty and responsible, for a decision that was  _ours_.”

Leo leans over the back of the middle seats now, elaborating with narrowed eyes and a remorseful expression, “So, with us being fully aware of how you’d guilt yourself over this, we should have terminated the whole conversation as soon as it started. We should have told your mum to back off, to stop you from getting upset like you did, regardless of if you knew our stance or not. We failed to do that. That’s what we need to apologise for, ___. We were so caught up in what your mum was saying that we didn’t realise how much you were suffering, and we should have, straight away.”

He reaches over the seat, cupping your face and planting a kiss against your forehead. “I’m so sorry, Baby. I never wanted to hurt you, and really screwed up today. Can you forgive me?”

Louis moves his hands, instead taking yours in them and bringing them to his lips. He brushes his lips over the knuckles, eyes downcast and head remaining bowed even when he speaks. “I’m so sorry as well, ___. I should have been paying more attention to how you were feeling, and I didn’t. I’m so sorry, Angel.”

Giles turns around in his chair, reaching back for one of your hands. Louis lifts it up to him, allowing the Christophe to take it and kiss the second joint of your middle finger. “I apologise as well, ___. I was just as lacking in my response, and careless in my attention when it came to your feelings. I’m so, so sorry, and hope you can forgive me for that.”

A hand drops down on top of your head, and lips peck your temple very briefly, before Alyn’s voice sounds next to you. Leaning over the seats next to Leo, he stares down at you, gaze intensely focused. “I’m sorry as well. I’m supposed to protect you from harm, of any kind, and I didn’t today. I was an idiot, and I screwed up. I’m really sorry, Princess.”

Finally, Sid speaks, coming up to a light. The boys all pull back and let go, and Sid cranes his torso around his chair, very swiftly extending his arm to cup the back of your head. He tugs you forward, stretching over to kiss your forehead. “Sorry, Love. We were careless and asshole-y, and we shouldn’t have been. We’ll be more careful with you from now on, yeah? We owe you, and we’re ready at any time to make it up to ya.”

With that, he winks, turning around again. The light changes from red, and he pulls away again, but your face could put up a good fight in competing against the light with the blood flushing to it.

You shrink back into your chair, trying to work through the innuendo and the thoughts it brings. “You don’t need to make it up to me. It was an accident and a mistake, that’s all. I’d rather we just forget about it and move forward.”

Giles smiles approvingly. “If that is what you truly wish, that is what we will do.”

“After all,” Louis’ fingers find your chin, coaxing it around until your eyes meet his. His lips hover inches from your own, and his thumb settles very lightly atop your lower lip. “You are our princess. If you order it, we will do it.”

Leo grins wickedly, leaning over the chair again. “Say it and it’s done, Your Majesty.”

Your insides clench, something about the way they’re revering you like a real monarch giving you flutters of excitement deep inside you. Your lips are graced by a real, wide smile, eyes glittering with joy for the first time since leaving the shop. You don’t like the thought of encouraging the way they place you above themselves, but just this once, you’ll allow it.

Just this once. Probably.

“Okay.” Your declaration is soft-spoken, announced through your blinding smile, but your voice is immutable and words unmistakable. “As your princess, I order you. Forget about everything that happened earlier, and speak of it no more. I want us to be happy, not dwelling on mistakes we’ve made. I command you all to be happy for me, and to move on with me.”

Smiles. Smirks. Grins. They all speak the same words, in perfect unison, for the first time.

“As you wish, Princess.”

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	8. Part VIII | Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

When you arrive home, you know you have two things to do.

First, you need to talk to Xander and Tobias, to sort out the concerns and problems they have with your boys.

Secondly, at some point, you need to talk to your mother. You’re not nearly as willing to do that.

Upon getting inside, you head upstairs with the boys and stay with them, playing games, talking and doing college work together. You’re in the middle of your French homework with Giles and Louis when there’s a knock at the door.

_I bet it’s Xander and Tobias._

You give the boys a smile, hopping up from your seat in one of the beanbags. “This will probably be Xander and Tobias. Carry on without me.”

They nod in response, smiling up at you as you rise. Bouncing over to the door, and squeezing Leo’s hand when he catches yours briefly, you opening it.

Indeed, your brothers – eh, stepbrothers, but still – are stood there, still dressed despite the fact that it’s going on ten at night. You’re in leggings and a vest, they acting as your pyjamas because they’re comfy, but you’ve still got your butterfly and knife holster on. “Hi. Ready to talk?”

Xander nods, tone appreciative. “Yeah. Thanks, ___.”

You just beam up at him, nodding. “No problem.” Glancing back at the boys, you give them a stern look. “No killing each other, please. And Nico,” You call to the latter, playing  _Guitar Hero_  against Alyn, and practically command, “Kick his arse. I’m counting on you.”

Alyn scowls. Nico grins, sending you a very swift wink mid-song. “Consider it done!”

Satisfied, you squeeze past the two and close your door, sighing out, “Right, let’s do this. Where to, oh-brothers-of-mine?”

Xander’s hand settles on your back, guiding you through the hallway and toward the stairs. “The living room. Dad and…” He pauses, then grins. “Mum are in their room.”

You laugh lightly at that. “I see. Perfect.”

Once you’re down there with them, you all plonk down into the beanbags, sat in a triangle. Already mentally prepared for any kind and intensity of interrogation, you sit back, declaring, “Okay, fire away. Anything you’re unhappy about, annoyed about, confused about, suspicious about, or just want to talk about, I’m all ears. Go for it.”

Xander chuckles. “That’s good. Thanks.” Sharing a look with Tobias, he cards his fingers through his snowy hair, breathing out, “Really, the only thing we have an issue with is what we said this morning; the boys never leave your side, and it’s got me vexed, sort of worried, and feeling like a bit of an outsider.”

Okay. You can deal with that. Your eyes flick to Tobias, who grunts, muttering, “I’m pretty much the same. Just add in the whole ‘annoyed’ part as well.”

Your head drifts up and down. This isn’t nearly half as bad as you anticipated. “Right. Well, I can do a few things about that. Do you guys know about the stuff that’s happened with me and them over the years? Like, the reasons why we’re so close?”

They both shake their heads. Tobias responds gruffly. “Your mum said you were really, really close and had been through a lot of stuff, but didn’t go into detail. It would probably help knowing what happened.”

You smile softly. “Of course. Well, that’s where I’ll start, then.”

And with that, you go off on one, explaining in brief detail pretty much all the major events you’ve been through with the boys. For example, you tell them about how the boys dragged you through losing your dad, through the mission in Dregea, how you ended up killing Gerald Wagner for the three Steiners and got shot during it, then onto more personal things.

You iterate to them how much all of you were alone and suffering with one thing or another, leaving out the specifics of the guys’ problems because it’s not for you to tell them, and make it clear how you created the group with the deliberate, conscious purpose of it being a completely platonic group, one that would defy everyone’s expectations.

Thinking about that makes you smile, considering how you’ve absolutely eaten your own words now, but the point still stands. The group remained complete, with everyone in it, and stayed platonic, for a whole two years before they started to realise that they’d gone back on their word.

They listen intently to all of this, Tobias’ expression complex but patient, while Xander’s is deeply interested, almost fascinated, and very much invested in your words.

Having said everything you can without giving out personal stories and whatnot, you huff once you’re done, sighing out,

“So, basically, that’s the general gist of why we’re all close. As for the way they stay really close physically and tend to do things like hugging me a lot, that’s literally because I’m a cuddly person. I like contact with those I trust and love, and I do love the boys immensely. They’re a major part of my life, and I consider them family, so I think it’s normal to be able to do things like that with them. They’re the same – it’s nothing worrying, like you thought, Xander. If they had any intentions that weren’t entirely pure, I would have kicked their arses by this point, trust me.”

They’re silent, pensive and processing, for a long few seconds.

Finally, Xander reacts, head shifting up and down very gradually. “Wow.” His lips split into an astounded smile, eyes a strange mix of proud, stunned and impressed. “That’s… that’s pretty amazing, ___. To have done all that, to have helped them all and yourself, then get them through everything they’ve had to deal with and come out so strong, it’s honestly a serious feat. Your commitment to them, and theirs to you, is beautiful.”

Your face lights up, eyes brightening and glimmering like stars, and a beaming smile graces your lips. “Thank you, Xander. That means a lot to me.” Your gaze shifts to Tobias. “What about you, mister? I know you’re not very fond of them.”

He rolls his eyes. “Tch. I’m not, but…” He crosses his arms, mumbling, “I guess I understand better why they’re so close with you now. It makes more sense. I feel like they’re a bit more genuine now that I know what’s gone on.”

You chuckle, stretching your arms and legs. Xander picks your feet up, settling them atop his thighs, and you grin at him. “Well, that’s good to know. I’m glad it at least clears the whole situation up a bit for you, and I’ll see what I can do about them backing off a bit when you’re both around so they’re not always taking over. Sorry about that.”

Xander massages your ankles gently, shaking his head. “At least on my end, I don’t mind. Like Tobias said, understanding it better helps with tolerating it more readily, so I don’t think it’ll bother me half as much now.” His pleasant expression falls a bit, lips twisting, before his hands still around your ankles. “But, there’s just one last thing I want to ask about.”

Your head tilts curiously. Your eyes fix on his, attention completely captured, while you say encouragingly, “Okay, that’s fine. Ask away.”

He almost looks guilty now. “Thanks. But, when I ask this, I don’t want you to lie.”

_What?_

Your heart may as well drop through your chest into your stomach. Insides twisting and clenching with fear and panic, you suppress the urge to recoil away from him and into the beanbag, terror coursing through you.

_He knows I’ve lied. He’s onto it. Tobias is no doubt the same._

“Of course I won’t. What is it?” You respond, trying to keep your voice calm and collected, as well as gentle, to fabricate the feeling in them that you’re telling the truth. Xander sighs heavily, massaging your ankles once more.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe that they just see you as a friend. The way they act with you, and you with them, is not remotely platonic, even considering the things you’ve been through.”

_Shit, shit! No, no, no! What am I supposed to say?_

You forge an expression of confusion, blinking as if shocked by his words. “Xander, they’re not-”

Tobias interrupts you, stating, “___, you’re not convincing us. Seriously, it’s obvious that they feel something more for you, so do us a favour and stop lying. You just said you wouldn’t, and yet you are.”

A frown forms on your face. You can’t stop the pain and guilt that sweeps through you from lurking in your eyes, and he sighs heavily. “Just be straight with us. Do you really feel that way toward them, that it’s all platonic? We’re not going to be angry or think you’re a hypocrite if you don’t. You’ve been through serious shit with them – it wouldn’t be surprising if you felt something for at least one of them, and with the way you act with them, I’m pretty damn sure you do.”

You don’t know what to do. They’ve got you cornered, the truth practically out, except for the impossible little piece they can’t possibly work out on their own.

You swallow hard.

_It’s not fair for me to lie to them. Maybe I should tell them. Maybe I should just get it out there now, and hope, pray and have faith, in that they at least won’t tell anyone, even if they don’t accept it._

You make your decision, heart pounding.

_I like having big brothers. I don’t want to lose them._

You can feel yourself shaking just slightly from nerves and panic, and you can see that they’ve noticed it too. Tobias scowls, but it’s one of those same ones that Alyn often has with you, when he’s frustrated not  _at_  you because you’re trembling, but frustrated purely because something is making you suffer enough to cause you to tremble. Xander’s face is crestfallen, eyes remorseful. You take in a deep breath.

“Let’s make a hypothetical; just like you’re trying to suss me out, I’m trying to do the same with you two. What would you say if I told you they’ve all fallen in love with me over the years?”

They both take a minute to consider the idea. Xander purses his lips, inhales, then shakes his head. “I’d say the same as before. I wouldn’t be surprised, with everything you’ve all been through, and the fact that you’re a truly beautiful person, both in body and mind. You have a rare personality, ___, and a magnetic one at that. If they’d fallen in love with you, I wouldn’t blame them, in a non-creepy or worrying way.”

_There’s that word again. Magnetic. I keep hearing it, when people talk about me._

Shrugging the thought off, you manage a tiny smile. “It’s not creepy, don’t worry. Thanks.” You look to Tobias once more. “Tobias?”

He shrugs. “Same here. I get why they would, even if they’re technically assholes for going back on their promise to you. But at the same time, they can’t control it. If it’s the way they feel, that’s it.”

So far, so good. Time to take it up a notch.

“Okay. Let’s keep going with that hypothetical.” Your eyes touch on Xander again, then move between the two while you speak. “Tobias, you said you wouldn’t be surprised if I felt something for at least one of them. Xander, are you the same?”

He nods in confirmation. You do the same. “Again, this is where I sort of suss you out as people; sorry about that. What would you say if I told you that, in this hypothetical, two of them had fallen in love with me, not just liking or having a long-time crush, but truly falling in love. Then, I had done the same, falling in love completely, with both of them, not just one of them. What would be your response?”

Tobias replies immediately. “Are you kidding? You’re talking about it as if it’s a new concept. Shit like that happens sometimes; it’s not always as stupid as  _Twilight_ , thank God, but I’ve heard stories about it. It can be genuine, even though the idea seems weird when you don’t think about it that often.”

Xander hums in agreement. “It’s rare, but not impossible or non-existent. There are stories all over the internet about things like that. Polyamory, right?”

_They’re aware that it exists. That makes things a hell of a lot easier. Praise whoever or whatever exposed them to it; probably the internet._

You rub your face, head bobbing up and down. “Yes. That’s comforting, at least. Now, what would you say if it was three boys who fell in love with me, and I loved all three back just as much, literally with everything I am? We’re still hypothetical here, of course.”

_Even though it’s blatantly obvious now that this is not a damn hypothetical._

Tobias sighs, sounding aggravated. “It’s the same. If they really loved you, you really loved them, and you were all completely happy and sure about it, that’s your business and I’ve got no issue with it. Stuff like this happens in all animals, even if society says it’s wrong now.”

“I agree. ___, the concept is the same, even with a higher number.” Xander concedes, squeezing your ankles.

_Fine, boys. I’ll just be blunt about it, then._

“Okay. Well, if it’s not a big deal, let’s just get the hypothetical done quickly. Nod if you could still accept it, or shake your head if you wouldn’t. This would be romantic, and in no way about sex; that’s not even in the picture, before you potentially get the wrong idea. This is entirely about emotion, and that’s as far as it goes.” They remain silent. You shrink into your chair, covering your face.

“What if it’s four of them?” You peek through your fingers. Nods again. “Five.” Slightly hesitant nods. “Six.” Xander blinks and Tobias arches an eyebrow, but they nod. “Seven.”

They share a look, hesitate, then nod. You rub your temples now. “Eight. Nearly there; stay with me.” They seem to understand where this is going to end. Xander swallows hard, thickly, but manages a small nod. Tobias’ expression is filled with dubiousness, but he nods as well. “Nine.”

You’re glad you worked them up to it, as opposed to throwing them in at the deep end.

It’s a solid forty seconds before Tobias speaks.

“Jesus. Nine?” He shoves the heel of his hand against his forehead, like he’s developing a headache, and quickly. “Holy shit. How in hell…”

“Language.” Xander almost groans out, leaning over your legs to drop his face against your knees. Sympathetic to the shock they must be feeling, you stroke his hair with one hand, tenderly, before placing the other on Tobias’ knee. Xander’s words are muffled by your leggings. “That’s… that’s something. I don’t really know what to say, or think, to be honest.”

You know the feeling. Lips curling up just a bit with the inside joke, you soothe them as much as you can, stroking Xander’s hair and rubbing Tobias’ knee. “Yeah, trust me, I was the same when I first found out that it existed.”

Eyes dropping to your thighs, your throat thickens just a little, the prospect of them reacting badly now gripping your mind like iron. You close your eyes, forcing out the words that terrify you more than any threat note ever could. “Last bit of the hypothetical now, I… I promise.” Your heart is hammering, upper body physically shifting with the intensity of its pounding. “Hypothetically, what would you do if… if this wasn’t a hypothetical?”

They don’t answer straight away. Your hands still, touching them all the while, before you finally lose your nerve and withdraw.

As soon as you do, they both reach out to you. Their fingers clamp around your wrists, tugging you toward them. They both move off their beanbags, onto the floor, and you end up on your knees between them. Arms curl around you from both sides, each twin embracing you almost painfully tightly, your hands resting against one of their shoulders each with their holds on your wrists. Your mind floods with confusion.

“Xander? Tobias? What-”

Tobias doesn’t let you finish. “Goddammit, ___, what did you think we’d do? Let me guess, you thought we’d hate you or something ridiculous like that?” He scoffs, head buried in your shoulder, before he pulls back to stare down at you. His eyes seem like they’re almost sparking, that electric blue prickling and blazing with an emotion you’ve honestly never seen before. “If the worst my little sister can do is love too many people because her heart’s made of pure damn gold, I can deal with that.”

Xander sits up as well now, his eyes sharing that same, fiery smoulder, just as intense, just as strong. “It’s a shock, ___, of course, but only because it’s something we’ve never encountered before. It’ll take time and watching you all to fully come around to it, but we can handle it. You’re our baby sister, and we wouldn’t give you up for the world. You’re a one in a million. You can hardly do us wrong by having more than the conventional one partner. If you truly, really love them, and they really, truly love you, I wouldn’t fight that for the world. If it’s what you want for definite, I have no objections, and Tobias doesn’t either.”

The relief almost winds you. It slams into you like a gale, knocking the breath from you.

Your head flops down, body slumping between them and sagging as the tension leaves you. Your throat, already thick with emotion, swells more, and you blink away tears of joy. “I can’t believe you… you’d both… thank you. Thank you so much. I… I’m so grateful.” You pull your wrists from their hands, looping your arms around their necks and hugging them fiercely. “You’re seriously the most amazing brothers ever. I can’t thank you enough. God, I love you guys.”

They hug you back, just as hard. You can feel their smiles when they respond, both in perfect unison, “We love you too.”

After a few seconds, you let them go, sitting back. You blow out a huge sigh of relief, shaking your head. “Wow. That was terrifying.” You grin up at them both. “Well, I’ve got nothing to hide now. You know my deepest, darkest secret.”

Tobias gives you a wicked grin in return, hand shooting out so he can flick you on the forehead. You yelp, slapping at his hand, but he catches your wrists and hauls you against him, grunting, “Geez. If that’s deep and dark, God forbid what things other than having too much love classify as.”

With that, his fingers descend on your ribs, tickling you mercilessly. You scream and squirm in his arms, but find yourself flat on your back on the floor in a split second, Xander having yanked your legs out from underneath you. He tickles your feet while Tobias attacks your waist. Delighted laughter erupts from you, giggles and squeals escaping your mouth in adorable peals. They laugh with you, glad to see you back to normal once more.

Then, they both stop, and you collapse against the ground limply. “Ugh…” You cough, feeling your already tender stomach aching. “You arseholes. My stomach hurts now.”

You see Xander smile sheepishly. “Sorry. Are your bruises okay?”

You make a face. “They’re darker now. It’s sort of horrible, actually; they’re purple.”

Tobias nudges at your vest. “Can we see?”

Feeling much more comfortable with them now that they know about you, you nod, tugging your shirt up. Immediately, they both become tense, expressions giving way to disgust, anger and devastation; the entirety of your mid-abdomen is discoloured a sickly purple. Shoving the vest back down, you poke them both in the chest, grumbling, “Oi, don’t make this serious again. Leave it alone, okay? Today has been way too much of an emotional rollercoaster to be dwelling on idiot nobles from college.”

Tobias grunts. “I’m still pissed, but fine.” He smirks now, saying in an almost sinister tone, “Better get you back to your boyfriends.”

He reaches down, hooking an arm under your back and flipping you over. Before you can ask what the hell he’s doing, he tightens his grip on what is now your hips, using it to lift you up and off the floor, literally picking you up like a sack of flower and carrying you with the one arm. You shriek, panicking and balancing precariously, to which he just laughs darkly and stands. “Come on. Let’s go talk to the guys that are now technically related to us.”

You smack your face at that, groaning out as he and Xander make their way to the stairs, “Not happening; don’t even start. That’s what I fought with mum over today. Marriage and kids are not happening, and it’s upsetting to talk about it, so please don’t.”

You glance up at them both, still being carried through the hallway to your room. “If it wasn’t obvious, don’t talk about my situation with anyone, regardless of how much you trust them, please. And even if it’s to mum and dad, me or any of the boys, don’t talk on the phone, or in messages, about it. It’s not safe and we can’t risk exposure. Understood?”

Tobias snorts. “Loud and clear, ma’am.”

Xander winks. “Of course. Your secret’s safe with us, baby sister.”

You can’t help but grin back. “Good.”

They reach your room now, and Tobias throws the door open without knocking. The boys all look over, freezing with shock, confusion, panic, curiosity or bemusement at you being carried at his side. He smirks, taunting in a teasing manner as he approaches Leo and Giles, sat on the beanbags still, “Ready to catch her?”

Both of them blanch, taken aback by the question. However, when he swings you back, ignoring your terrified and also bewildered yell, they respond instantly, preparing themselves.

He chucks you to them, and you land on the beanbag between them. They stop you from flopping off it and onto the floor. You send him a heated glare. “Dick.”

A sinister laugh rumbles out of him. “And proud.”

Xander rubs the back of his neck, laughing as well, but his is apologetic. “Sorry, ___.”

At your dismissive wave, Tobias speaks once more, voice commanding and blunt, almost like a solder, arms crossing tightly. “Okay. So, shit happened, and we know about the whole relationship between you all. We know you’re all her boyfriends, so don’t get all edgy and suspicious around us anymore.”

The boys’ eyes snap to you. You shake your head, laying back in the middle of the beanbags. “They worked it out. They’d already sussed out that you all felt something more than friendship for me, and vice versa. There was no point in hiding it. They won’t tell anyone, though; we’re safe and can trust them.” You level your brothers with a lethal glare. “Because, obviously…”

In the blink of an eye, you’ve whipped out one of the knives in your holster. You fling it between the twins, and it sinks into the training board Lucian said he brought from the ICAC when he first gave you the knives, it now hanging, fixed, to your wall behind them both.

They both freeze, eyes wide, upon seeing the knife fly past their faces. Your expression flattens. “If they tell anyone, we’re all screwed, and I’ll kill them both myself. Are we clear?”

Tobias doesn’t look remotely frightened. If anything, he just seems impressed. Xander chuckles, similarly not fazed by your threat, before he sings out, “Crystal.”

Tobias carries on now, returning to his point. “Anyway, we know about you guys. We don’t care, to be honest, because she’s happy and that’s all we want. We’ll leave you to it, and trust you all a hell of a lot more to protect her now we know how much she means to you. However,”

He steps closer to them all, body language exuding menace like smoke. “If you hurt her, or upset her, or do her wrong in any way, shape or form, you’ll regret it. It’s not immediately obvious, but we’re trained at just under the level ___ is in ICAC terms, so we could easily mess you all up if we had reason. Basically, this still works in the classic protective-older-brothers-to-baby-sister’s-boyfriend way, no matter if boyfriend has become boyfriends. We love her to hell and back. She’s our family, so if you screw up with her, you’ll have us to answer to. Got it?”

There are varied expressions around the room right now. Albert looks thoroughly offended, Alyn miffed, Byron unimpressed and like he’s holding back an insult, Giles seems stunned, Leo appears rather bemused, Louis seems to be to some extent intimidated, Nico is just having a great time, apparently finding Tobias’ threats amusing, Robert looks just like Byron, if actually less interested, and Sid is smirking away, evidently not bothered in the slightest by his tough attitude.

Nico bounces up first, nodding fiercely with a beaming smile. “Loud and clear! We’re not letting anyone near her, and we won’t hurt her. We promise.”

Sid snorts. “Chill, Tobias. Just from your face, it’s easy to see that you’re ready to kick our asses if we mess up. Trust me when I say we’re not going to.”

Said male scowls at him. “That’s all good and well, but quite frankly, I’m taking this seriously. If she ends up with her heart even the slightest bit damaged because of you guys, I’m going to end you all, so I wanted you to be aware of that.”

“You’ve made it clear enough. To be frank myself, Tobias, you’re being excessive. We are not taking this matter lightly ourselves.” Byron almost snaps.

He produces his phone, tapping at it for a moment, before opening the note you all have with the rules of the relationship on it. He holds it out to Tobias, stating, “If we weren’t, we wouldn’t have established ten rules which govern the entire relationship and ensure that we all conduct ourselves in a manner that will make its success and longevity more likely. See for yourself.”

Tobias swipes the phone, almost glaring down at the screen. Xander peers over his shoulder, reading through them as well. Byron sighs again, sounding almost strained, and the sound makes your heart ache. “I would ask that you don’t speak so disrespectfully to us. We are not your enemy, and would like to be a part of ___’s family – which is now your family – peacefully, so I don’t appreciate the threats in the slightest.”

Something’s off with him. You gaze up at him, eyes swirling with concern. Tobias’ stern expression fades, replaced by an almost scorned one, before he hands the phone back.

“Yeah. Sorry. I guess I was a bit dramatic.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking awkward and unsure of what to do. He exhales heavily, seeming to be biting back his pride, before he mumbles, “I don’t actually think that you guys would hurt her, not with the way you act around her. I’m just an ass by nature.”

Xander whacks him over the back of the head lightly. “Then don’t be an ass.” He gives Byron an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry. I want us to be able to work with all of you as well.”

He steps up before the sofa-bed where Byron sits, holding his hand out. “I’ll keep this one’s mouth shut from now on. I’m grateful, truly, for everything you’ve done for ___ all this time,” He glances around the boys. “All of you.”

Byron sits up, shaking his hand firmly. “You’re welcome. I appreciate your more mature approach to this.”

They both let go, and Xander steps back. He elbows Tobias in the ribs, maybe a bit too hard. “There’s always one, and Tobias is it. He means well.” Ignoring his twin’s glare, he drops a hand atop your head for a moment, ruffling your hair affectionately. “And now, we’ll leave you all alone. We’ve stolen her from you enough for the day.” Winking at your slight blush, he takes Tobias’ arm and drags him to the door. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight.” You wave, watching them both leave, the door shutting behind them.

Immediately, you whip around, lurching to your feet. You’re practically flying over to Byron before the rest of the guys have even processed what happens, and you stop before the couch, then crouch down in front of him. Your hands curl around the one of his that you can reach, resting atop his thigh; the other is curled into a fist, propping his head up with the attached elbow on the back of the couch.

“Are you okay? What’s up?” You squeeze the hand gently, staring up into his eye, the other obscured by his hair. “I’m really sorry he acted like that. He means well, but he’s really awful at getting it across. If I had known he was going to say that, I would have told him to be quiet. He shouldn’t have spoken like that at all-”

“Sweetheart, stop apologising for the world.”

He’s curling his arms around you before you can finish, lifting you up and onto his lap sideward-on, but with your torso facing him. Your hands find his shoulders for balance, and he sighs, shaking his head. “If you didn’t have such pure intentions, I would think you have a guilt complex. I’m fine. It simply took me off-guard, that two people who we’ve not known for long are now aware of the situation.”

He tugs you against him more, so that your torso touches his, one hand settled on your hip. Skin flushed, you watch him rest his other hand on your warm cheek, thumb tracing over your cheekbone. “However, if you trust them to guard it as we and your parents are, I will also trust them. I was unimpressed by Tobias’ manner of speech, but believe me when I say it would take much more intelligent words for there to even be a chance of him actually getting to me.”

The crushing weight of worry dissipates, leaving you heaving out a breath, gripping his shoulders. “Oh. Thank you; I believe we can trust them, a lot. I have faith in them, enough that I connected the dots for them when they had virtually everything worked out. I don’t feel that they would betray my trust, nor my parents’ trust in them. I’m confident that they’ll protect what they know.”

A slight smile tugs at his lips. He brushes your hair back, studying your face so intensely, you’d think it’s the first time he’s seeing you. “Then that is enough for me.”

Sid stands at this point, drawing the attention of the group to him. He wanders over to the board your knife is buried in, perfectly straight and deep in the wood, and whistles. He snickers, seeing you both look over at him.

“Carry on, don’t mind me. Damn, you’ve got a good throw.” He sends you a wink and an impish smirk. “Just saying, when you threw it, it was seriously one of the sexiest things I’ve seen in my life. I’m not even exaggerating.”

Your cheeks flush a deep crimson at his blunt honesty. Leo hums, rolling up to join the tall male, then carefully ease the knife out of the board. He studies it closely, scarlet orbs trained on the lethal, serrated edge and streamline design. “Agreed. I’ve never thought of violence as attractive, but it’s sort of impossible when your princess casually chucks a knife through the gap between her brothers and lands it perfectly.”

They start to fuss and fawn over the apparent appeal of lethality in their girlfriend, and you bury your face in Byron’s throat, locking your arms around his neck. His hot, large hands ease up and down your back, massaging, before sliding around to your ribs. He caresses them tenderly, lovingly, for several heartbeats, before his lips drift up to hover against the shell of your ear.

Breaths wafting over the sensitive skin there and making you shiver, he murmurs, voice smooth and rich like chocolate, “I think Albert, Nico and I would like to steal you tonight, considering that Louis, Giles and Robert had you last night. Do you have any objections to this?”

Your insides twist and flutter with excitement, blush worsening and body heating before you can calm it down. Your arms tighten around his neck. “None at all.”

He chuckles lowly. His hands slip under your vest, one tracing upward, the tips of his fingers grazing over the ridges of your spine. Your muscles quiver, contracting of their own accord, and your own hand rises to the back of his head. Expression betraying bliss and pleasure but obscured by his throat, your own fingers sift through his silken locks, resting there for the briefest of moments.

When his other hand lowers to settle on your thigh, your nerves go wild, anticipation and a vague awareness that you’re not alone overwhelming your senses. You grip his hair, not hard enough to cause him pain or actually pull at it, but enough that he feels it. He sighs very softly at the sensation.

His teeth find your earlobe, ghosting over it. His lips close around the flesh, and you shake against him.

“I suggest you get ready for bed. I’m assuming that you would not object to us three giving you similar treatment to that of the others this morning, although we might just give you it now as well.”

You swear, Byron has such a dirty mouth. Sometimes, everything he says just oozes sex.

Not that you’re complaining, not at all.

“No… objections here.” You manage to respond, albeit brokenly, from your slight pleasure-induced haze. He makes a sound of satisfaction, very briefly kissing your earlobe.

“Then go. We will do the same once you’re done.” He releases you, letting you heave yourself off his lap and onto your feet, somewhat unsteadily.

Trying to breathe through your immense blush, you duck around the guys and into the bathroom, shaking your head. You start to brush your teeth and neaten yourself up, thoughts approaching dangerous territory.

_This is the problem with having nine boyfriends, all of whom are sexy as hell in one way or another, and most of whom, I now realise, can talk dirty for all of Wysteria and Stein._

Finished getting ready, you wander back into your room. Leo sidles up next to you, offering your knife to you. “Your knife, Princess.”

You take it with a grin, flipping it about between your fingers absently. “Thank you.”

Sid smirks, leaning against your wardrobe, near the wall where the board is. “Throw it again. I’m starting to think that maybe it was just a fluke.”

_Your smirk is telling me otherwise; you just want to see me throw it again because you think it’s hot._

You roll your eyes, giving him an exasperated look. “Really? It’s knife-throwing. It should not be attractive.”

His smirk doesn’t falter. “Trust me, Love, it’s attractive. I’m pretty sure most of us think that, even if the others are being bores and refusing to admit it.”

“I’m not!” Leo chirps, leaning in close to whisper huskily, “I find it beautiful. In all honesty, I’m struggling to restrain myself right now, just seeing you flipping it like that.”

There really must be something in the air today.

“Geez,” You laugh out, trying to ignore the churning excitement in your stomach from the intense gazes coming from them both. “Let’s hope none of you ever see me in a knife fight with someone, then.”

Deciding to just go for it, your eyes focus in on the board. Flipping it around once more, you raise your arm, calculating the force you need instinctively, having practiced so much that it’s second nature to you now. Positioning it between your fingers, you keep your body balanced and steady.

You suck in a breath, then launch the knife.

It sinks into the wood with a thud, perfectly straight once more, and in the exact same place it hit before.

All of the boys present, meaning everyone but Byron, stare at it for a few moments. Sid’s smirk stretches even wider. “Goddamn, Princess. Remind me never to piss you off.”

Albert and Byron emerge from the bathroom, finished getting ready for bed. Nico bounces up, curling an arm around your waist while he murmurs into your ear, “Please, remind me  _to_  make you angry, if I get to see that again.”

With that, he licks the outside of your ear, then skips into the bathroom. You yelp, hands flying up to your ear, skin tingling with a ticklish sensation. There are rounds of laughter from the boys, to which you scowl, muttering, “Oh, shush! You’re all so mean…”

Byron steps up to you now, tucking his arms around your stomach from behind. He kisses your hair, chuckling out, “Come. Let’s get settled – it’s been a long day.”

Nodding in agreement, you let him escort you over to your bed. You hop up, and Byron slides on next to you, while Albert does the same on the other side with a light blush. Alyn is still playing  _Guitar Hero_ , sat at the end of the bed with his eyes on the screen. Sid and Leo have finished marvelling at your knife-throwing abilities and have gone to get ready for bed themselves, while Giles, Robert and Louis are busying themselves with preparing the sofa-bed, apparently having agreed to sleep there in place of the Steiners.

Flopping back against the pillows without getting under the covers, you sigh out all of your tension, musing darkly, “Life has just become insane lately. I feel like every time things settle down, everything goes mad again and something happens.”

Byron drapes himself back, staring up at the ceiling. “Indeed. Things have certainly gotten more serious and are happening on a larger scale of late.” He turns to face you, slipping his arm under your neck. You let your head flop to the side, lips nuzzling into his forearm. His other arm’s hand rises to your cheek, stroking it affectionately. “But we’re here for you. Whatever happens, no matter how dangerous or often it occurs, we’ll be there every step of the way.”

Your heart sings at the sure tone of voice he uses. You hum, closing your eyes. “Thank you. I know you all are.”

Nico bounces out of the en suite now, bounding over to the bed.

Without any sort of warning, he beams, chucking himself on top of you and shattering the moment of peace.

You release a groan of pain as he lands on your stomach, and then you hunch over, bruises crying out in protest. You shove at him as lightly but urgently as you can, gasping out, “Ow, Nico. Careful, please – bruises.”

You can practically see the blood pouring out of his face, amber eyes widening with horror. He scrambles up and onto his knees, cradling your face and gushing out, forehead pressed against your own, “I’m so sorry! I forgot! I’m such an idiot. How badly does it hurt? Do you need painkillers? I’m sorry-”

“Nico,” You clamp a hand over his mouth, your other settled against your abdomen. “Shush. It’s fine – it wasn’t on purpose. I don’t need painkillers, thank you. Just give me a second to get my breath back.”

He nods against your hand, and you exhale gradually, forcing your body to stop tensing up. When the pain recedes, you collapse back again, moaning out, “I hope Adalicia suffers, and Saber. They seriously suck as people.”

Byron pushes the covers back while you wish misfortune upon the nobles, and Albert lifts your legs while Nico gets off the bed. Albert puts you down again, and then Byron shuffles closer before Nico lays down, curled around your legs, wrapping his arms around your middle gingerly. Doing the same as Giles, Robert and Louis did this morning, Byron tugs the cover up so it’s over him and Albert, and then Nico, but not suffocating him.

Byron’s hand finds yours, atop your stomach, and cradles it tenderly. His other arm slides under your pillow, he now lying on his side facing you. Albert inhales deeply to your left, then very gently eases himself to be lying down close to you, almost tucking himself under the left side of your body. He eases an arm under the curve of your waist, above Nico’s arms, before taking your free hand in his. Your heart thumps away; you can feel his own racing against your back, and can feel how beautifully warm he is, heat exuding from him all over.

The other two are no different. Nico is cuddling your legs and stomach, a ball of adorable warmth snuggling into your lower body. Byron is practically molten, his arms and hands acting as a radiator for your upper body.

Said Wagner’s forehead settles against yours, and you turn on your side a bit more, allowing you to meet his gaze more easily while also letting Albert lie on his side more securely. Byron’s steely blue eye, one covered by rebel strands of hair, is focused entirely on your face, uncaring of anything and anyone else.

The intensity of it almost feels intimate, like it’s something personal and private, but at the same time it’s completely open and honest. It’s strange.

“Adalicia and Saber will feel the consequences of their actions soon. I have no doubt that the ICAC will see to that personally.” He assures you, studying your features while he speaks. “For now, we must just focus on getting you, along with the rest of us, through the year. If we remain strong and together, we will do it. They will not come near any of us.”

Albert nods, mouth pressed against the back of your head lightly. “They will not come anywhere close, not if we have anything to do with it. We will protect and guard you with our lives.”

The love you feel for them only intensifies with their words. You squeeze both of their hands, uttering, “I know you will, and I’m so grateful for it. You all know that.”

The others are starting to get into bed now, you observe, watching Alyn, Leo and Sid make themselves comfy on the beanbags, while Giles, Robert and Louis are already settled on the sofa-bed. The lights go off, plunging the room into pitch-black darkness. Not being able to be seen by any of the others just makes it feel all the more intimate, lying there with the Steiners, and you try to keep your thoughts under control when you laugh out, “It seems like it’s bedtime.”

Byron chuckles softly, Nico giggles into your stomach, and Albert sighs, but you can feel his smile. You raise your voice a bit, calling, “Goodnight, guys.”

There’s murmurs and yawns in response, all of them bidding you the same. You can hear Leo and Sid talking, and Robert and Giles, but you can’t hear what they’re saying. Remembering that your phone’s on the bedside table, you give Byron’s hand another squeeze. “Can you get my phone for me, please? It’s on the bedside table.”

“Of course.” He releases your hand for a moment, then seeks it out again in the dark, handing the phone to you. You take it, then bury it under your pillow, higher up so it won’t be knocked by Albert’s arm in the night. Byron’s fingers twine through yours again. “ICAC rule?”

You laugh quietly. “Yeah. ‘Keep your phone close, and your data plan closer.’”

Nico snorts at that. “The ICAC are great. They’re so funny, even though they’re so serious.”

He nuzzles his face into your abdomen, nudging your vest up just a bit before dropping his palm against your side. Your eyes drift closed, mind homing in on the sensation of him tugging your vest up with what you realise are his teeth, then tracing his lips over the skin just shy of your naval. He mumbles into your flesh, words purring out and vibrating into you. “They’re like a family, though, at the same time. They don’t act like they’re an intelligence agency.”

You hum lowly, feeling his leg slip between both of yours, the touch sending shudders rolling through you. Trying not to react verbally, you grip Byron’s hand harder, locking your legs around Nico’s. Unbeknownst to you, the former is taking in your every facial expression, studying the look of barely-contained pleasure seeping into it while you attempt to respond. “That’s what they are. They’re one big family, compromised of people… ah…”

Nico kisses your hip now, easing the waistband of your leggings down to expose the bone. Your pelvis quakes, thighs trembling, and heat consumes your muscles from where his lips touch. You bury your face in the pillow, fingers nearly crushing Byron’s hand with the force they’re using to cling onto him. You do the same with Albert’s hand, and at first, he seems almost worried, as if he thinks you’re in pain.

However, after catching Byron’s look telling him he’s wrong, he clicks on, expression giving way to flustered realisation.

“Hm…” Nico’s arm locks around your thighs, the other curling around your lower back, before he nips very carefully at the soft flesh of your abdomen again. Intense, almost blinding pleasure ripples through you. You stifle a moan, teeth sinking into your lip to keep yourself quiet. The rose-haired male grins, kissing at the spot, now without teeth. “What were you saying, Princess? You sort of trailed off, Sweetie.”

_Agh! Damn you, Nico! You’re so cruel._

“I-I forgot. Um…” You stutter out, brain attempting to speak around the onslaught of sensations from your lower body.

This isn’t helped in any way, shape or form when Byron leans in close, declaring, “The rules be damned.”

With that, he lowers his head to yours, kissing you like a man starved of the thing he needs most in the whole world.

Your surprised squeak is swallowed by the kiss, thankfully. Byron curls the arm under your neck around your head and shoulders more, coaxing your head to tilt back more and give him easier access to your lips. At the same time, it makes your neck vulnerable, and with the thin straps of your vest and bra, your collarbones and shoulders also become completely susceptible to any advances they might execute.

And that is exactly what Albert does, now that his brothers are sufficiently distracted and preoccupied.

Letting go of your hand for a very short second, he reaches down, yanking the covers over you all like Robert and Giles did this morning. All of you now fully obscured, at least from sight, Albert closes in for the kill.

His mouth seeks out your neck, lips attaching themselves to the supple skin there. He pulls his arm out from under the pillow, and his fingers brush your hair away, easing it back. He twists it around his fingers, settling it above your head on the pillow, so your entire neck is open to him. He kisses the space under your jaw, gripping your hand back just as hard now, heat rolling from his face. Fighting through the embarrassment and atypical nature of being intimate with you at the same time as his brothers, his lips worship your throat, painting it with somewhat inexperienced but passionate kisses.

This whole time, your mind has been practically spinning with pleasure. Your lips haven’t separated from Byron’s once, consumed by his deep, almost commanding kisses, that calm, composed authority he has remaining intact even now. Nico’s teeth graze up your stomach, then around and back down, leaving a tingling, blistering trail of pleasure in their wake. Your thighs clench around his leg, still settled between both of yours.

You’re certain you’re going to pass out from a lack of oxygen. Reluctantly, you force your head back, gasping in a breath as quietly as possible. The air warm and stuffy under the cover, it only serves to increase your already high body temperature, and makes the haze in your mind even more powerful.

Apparently not finished with you, Byron ducks his head down, his lips navigating to your throat instead. He joins Albert in littering it with kisses, sucking, even licking and nibbling anywhere and everywhere they can touch. The sensation of them both giving you so much love in the same area, when paired with Nico’s relentless attention on your stomach, hips and ribs, is almost unbearable, overwhelming yet additive and unbelievably wonderful.

Albert’s arm embraces your waist more forcibly now, and he sucks particularly hard on your collarbone, granted still with caution. You shudder, face contorted with pleasure. Byron’s arm moves under your torso from your head, hand slipping between your back and Albert’s chest. His palm flattens against your mid-spine, nudging your vest up even higher. At the same time, Nico’s fingers tease down your side to your hip, then your thigh. It tenses up as he makes a gradual descent to the back of your knee, before he then brings it up once more, ending up gripping the back of your thigh.

It’s too much. You can barely breathe around the overstimulation, around the love you feel, around the touches all over your body.

You can just make out Byron’s eyes in the dark when his forehead presses against your own. You pant away, lips inches from his, hovering there. He gazes down at you, studying you, basking in the expressions the three of them are eliciting from you. You can’t bear to look at him, and yet you couldn’t look away if you tried.

There’s a fire in those eyes. Eyes, which have always been still like water.

His lips close over yours once more.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

You don’t remember falling asleep.

You jolt awake to the sound of your name, hushed and almost urgent.

Instincts drive you out of your dreams in a snap second, and your eyes fly open, a quiet gasp escaping you. A hand is around your arm, and your own shoots out, fingers gripping their own arm hard enough to allow you to throw them off you.

Your vision focuses. The room is dark, but you identify the owner of them without hesitation.

“Mum?” Your thought still slow from sleep, you squint, trying to shake your mind from its groggy, slow state. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

She looks conflicted, but not panicked, harmed or in danger. You sigh in relief; your natural reaction had been to expect trouble of some kind. She swallows hard, the sound able to be heard in the silence of the room. It must still be the middle of the night. “I’m sorry for waking you up. Can I… can we talk? I know it’s ridiculous, this late, but I just… I want to apologise. I want to say sorry-”

You sigh. You’re tired, now aggravated, finding this very much ridiculous and a pain. Why couldn’t she just do it in the morning?

“It’s fine.” Despite your bitter train of thought, you force out the words, deciding to remain pacifistic. You assess your position.

Nico has his arms locked around your stomach, fast asleep. Albert has cuddled up to you from behind and has his arms around your waist. Byron is the same from the front, lips pressed to your forehead.

_Fuck._

“Goddammit. Give me a sec.” You snap, now rather miffed at having to leave your complex, but also very comfortable, position. She releases your arm.

You tentatively unwind the boys from you, hushing them when they shift in sleep and reach out for you again. Taking extreme care not to stand on Nico, you climb out and slide off the bed, edging your way around the beanbags on the floor, where Sid, Leo and Alyn are fitfully asleep. The door’s ajar, and the hall light is on, letting you navigate toward it, granted off-balance and sluggishly.

Once you’re out, you squint again, the bright light attacking your eyes and glaring into them. Your mum follows you out, closing the door. You rub at your eyes, blinking aggressively to get them to adjust.

After a few seconds, she finally speaks. She sounds so close to crying.

“I’m so sorry. I was so focused on the wedding, and the whole idea of it, that I got carried away. I completely disregarded your situation and didn’t think about how it made you feel, and that was so, so wrong of me. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to-”

“Mum,” You interrupt her, exhausted, before rubbing your face. “Enough. Stop.”

She does as you say, sniffing. You sigh. “You’re stressed to high hell. You’re having your second wedding, which is stressful enough, but even more so because your last marriage ended with death. I get it; you don’t need to explain. You wouldn’t hurt me maliciously, or with intent, or even out of spite. You’re not the type, and it was obvious all day that you were off. So, please, stop apologising. I’m not even angry or upset anymore – I know you’re aware that you upset me, and that you’re sorry for it. It’s done with. Okay? Let’s just move on. Dwelling on it gets us nowhere.”

“But I- I mean, the things I said, and how I even blamed you for reacting-”

You’re ready to explode. You just want to be back asleep in the boys’ arms.

You throw your arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Mother. Birth-giver. Creator. Mum. I forgive you. Do you understand?”

She grips you hard, burying her face in your shoulder. You exhale quietly. “I’m not stupid. I know when you’re hurting and how you respond to it. You either cut off, or you deflect. Today, it was the latter, and it was unfortunately aimed at me, the one person in a very much bad position to be the subject of that stress. However, I love you because you’re my mum and I’m not going to hold a grudge against you for one day. Alright? So just let it go, please, for both of us. Move on with me and be happy.”

She bursts into tears. You groan internally, but you muffle her cries with your shoulder, listening to her sob out all of her stress and frustration to you.

A good five minutes or so later, the sobs dry up and eventually fade into quiet, hiccupped, jutted breaths. She draws back, swiping at her eyes with her top’s sleeves. “God. Sorry for doing this so late – I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about it all.”

You wave a hand dismissively, just wanting to get back to bed. “It’s fine, I understand. You wanted to sort it out, sooner rather than later.” You rub her arm. “Go. Sleep, mum. We’re okay now, I promise. Tomorrow, we’ll be completely back to normal and that’ll be it. Yeah?” She nods mutely, and you hug her again. “Goodnight. Go and get some rest, bride-to-be. You need all the sleep you can so you can deal with all of this.”

She manages a small smile, nodding. “Yeah. Thank you, ___. Goodnight.”

She wanders off down the hallway to her room, body language expressing relief and ease for the first time since this afternoon. You shake your head, waiting until she’s rounded the corner before muttering, “Who’s the adult here, again?”

You slap at the light for the landing, hearing her and Lucian’s bedroom door close, before shoving your door open once more.

Sighing heavily, you close it behind you, tiptoeing back to your bed around the boys. You clamber up, very much not graceful or nimble with exhaustion, and crawl up beside Nico. Slipping back under the cover, you burrow down, returning to your position from earlier. They all remain asleep, but soon curl their arms around you again, embracing you in their slumber.

Your eyes close. The world falls away in seconds.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

You’re woken again. You’re choking.

You jerk out of sleep, hands flying up to your throat. Trapped in the sensation of drowning, you gasp and cough, panting away. You’re safe in the boys’ arms, and it’s still night-time. Your eyes open. Your room is completely dark and silent.

Everything is fine. Apparently, you’re not.

Thankfully, the boys haven’t been roused from your harsh awakening. Almost ready to cry because you’ve now woken up or been woken twice in one night, you moan into your pillow, devastation flooding you.

_Why? Why now? What in the name of hell is wr-_

Your phone vibrates under your pillow. Short, repetitive, warning bursts. You stiffen in the boys’ embrace.

The ICAC. That’s your vibration pattern for them.

_Shit._

You swipe your phone, mind kicking into alert straight away. You ease yourself out of the boys’ arms as swiftly as possible, less carefully this time, before scrambling out of bed and sprinting to your door with the lightest steps you can manage. You throw it open, whipping it closed and accepting the call, now stood in the empty, silent, pitch-black hallway.

“Hello?” You whisper, feeling your way around the landing using the wall. “Who is this?”

“Is this ___ ___?” A female voice asks, tone urgent and somewhat panicked. Heart thudding away harder by the second, you swallow thickly, coming to a halt in the corridor.

_Oh, God. What’s happened? Don’t tell me someone’s dead. Not Dimitri, or Archduke Grandier, or one of the other agents…_

“Yes, that’s me.” You answer timidly, leaning against the wall and trying to fully wake yourself from the daze of sleep. There’s a sigh of relief.

“Thank heaven.” You hear rapid, almost rushed typing, someone doing something on a computer furiously. “It’s Alisanne Lévesque, ___, Mimi’s mum. It’s good to hear you’re alive and well.”

_Mimi’s mum? She’s the agent working on the investigation over the nobility, or one of them, at least._

“H-Hi.” You respond shakily, unable to suppress the trembles surging your body from increasing anxiety. “I’m alive and well, yeah. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

She sighs again. She sounds shattered. “I’m really sorry for calling you so late; I tried calling Lucian, but he wasn’t answering. I’m guessing his phone is off or he’s deep asleep, but I want you to check that for me in a minute. I’m aware that he lives with you now. For the moment, though, stay where you are. Are you in your house, ___?”

There’s so much in there that you want to question. You immediately take off through the corridor, glancing around yourself, peering at your surroundings almost desperately. “Yes, I’m in my house. Lucian is here as well, and his two sons, since they live here now.”

“Good. There’s been a development, ___, just now, about the nobles who’ve been causing trouble. Listen to me carefully.” You pause outside your mum and Lucian’s bedroom door, swallowing thickly. Her next words are heavy and very much serious.

“There are two noble children in particular who’ve been after you, right? Adalicia Sauvage and Saber Boucher.” You make a sound of agreement, gripping your phone tighter. Your knuckles are running out of blood by this point.

“They’re nowhere to be found. The ICAC moved in today, covertly, to prosecute them. I’m sorry, ___. When the agents and prosecutors arrived at their mansion, they weren’t there. All of our attempts to track them down have failed, and we can’t find them. Even with CCTV, we can’t get a hold of them or work out where they are, meaning they could be anywhere, be it a district in Wysteria or another country. They’re just gone.”

The blood drains from your face, just like your knuckles.

_They’re gone._

You whirl around, nerves prickling.

_They could be here. They could be coming for me. For us._

The boys.

You start to shake violently. “Shit. What should I do? What if they come after us?”

“___, calm down. Think about this carefully.” You breathe in deeply, trying to slow your thoughts and settle your emotions. She continues, voice lowering into a controlled, steady hum. “They’re likely to do the opposite. They won’t come for you because they’d know that we’d work out it was them as soon as you reported trouble, and we have enough surveillance around your area to catch them, then hunt them down. They don’t want that; they’re fleeing the law, so they’re going to lie low as much as humanly possible. Okay?”

That makes sense. You let out the breath now, forcing yourself to calm down. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand. I’ve got… friends over, so I panicked. Sorry.”

“That’s fine, ___. Don’t worry about it. Who are your friends? We might already have them under our protection, but if they’re not, they need to be for now. It’ll be covert, I promise. They just need to be guarded for now, while things are turbulent and uncertain like this.” She replies soothingly, typing away again. You drag your hands through your hair.

“Alyn Crawford and Leo Crawford. Giles Christophe. Louis Howard. Robert Branche. Sid Arnault. Byron Wagner. Nico Meier. Albert Burckhardt.” She types as she goes, making sounds when each name is done, before she checks over the spelling of them all at the end. She sounds satisfied when she finally talks again.

“Good. Byron, Albert and Nico, as well as Robert, Alyn and Leo, are all under some degree of protection already. We’ll grant the others it as well, along with their families, up to interval checks, monitoring and increased patrols around their residences.” She decides, typing away. You shake your head, countering,

“Trust me, you won’t need to cater for family for most of them. Giles’ family are estranged, and Robert, Byron, Albert, Nico, Alyn and Leo don’t live with any relatives, have none left who are alive, or aren’t in prison.”

_That last one’s for you, Aubin Crawford. Prick._

She’s quiet for a few moments, and then she makes a sound of acknowledgement. “Indeed, it seems you’re right. And Louis’ birth records seem rather out of place. Sid’s are a bit odd as well; we’ve got a second alias for him. Lloyd Grandier.”

You groan. “Yeah. It’ll be on the system somewhere, but Louis was adopted by Archduke Howard.” She makes a displeased sound. “Exactly. Now you can imagine why the records are fuzzy. Sid’s alias is to protect him. Just look into his parents, and then the person he currently lives with, and you’ll understand.”

You hurry down the corridor now, then pad over to descend the stairs. “What should I do now, then? Lucian needs to know about this.” You check the doors and windows, ensuring they’re all locked, and that downstairs is empty, while you talk. “I can wake him up.”

She grunts. “As much as I hate to interrupt both of your sleeps, I think that’s wise. Can you get him up for me? I can just talk to him – you go back to sleep once he’s up. He’ll sort out the rest with me.”

You nod, bounding back upstairs while simultaneously attempting to be quiet. “Yeah, just give me two seconds.”

With that, you sprint to their room, mentally steeling yourself just in case you end up walking in on something you don’t want to see.

You shove the door open.

Thankfully, they’re both fast asleep. You sigh, creeping over to the bed on Lucian’s side. His face is set in a rare expression of peaceful relaxation, something you’ve only seen a few times before.

_Whoops. I’ll have to destroy that expression, now._

His phone is on the bedside table. You pick it up and inspect it, finding it on with several missed calls from a number you presume is the same one Alisanne is calling with. The ringer is muted, something that makes you groan softly. “His phone’s on silent. He must have forgotten to turn it off.” She grumbles something under her breath. You shake your head, setting it down and preparing yourself.

You reach down, lightly resting your hand on his arm.

He snaps out of sleep instantly, fingers clamping around your wrist so hard you feel the bone creak. Wincing, you grip him back, hissing, “It’s ___! Calm your shit; it’s your daughter!” His fingers tighten their grasp. You curse. “Ow, Lucian! Fuck, my wrist – let go!”

He seems to register who you are, at long last. He releases you, and you all but drag him up, then out of the room, yanking him out and into the hallway. You shut the door behind you, sighing out,

“We’ve got a situation. Wake up, dad. Please. It’s serious.” He blinks, coming around more now that you’ve called him that. You speak into your phone again. “Okay, he’s awake. You’re sure it’s okay for me to go back to sleep?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you so much, ___. You’re a star. Goodnight.” You nod to yourself.

“Thank you, for everything. Goodnight.” You hold the phone out. “It’s Alisanne. They can’t find Adalicia or Saber’s families; they’re on the loose somewhere.”

He nods fiercely, taking the phone. “Thank you. Head back to bed; I’ll take it from here.” He cups the back of your head, kissing your forehead firmly. “We’ll be fine. Stay with the boys.”

“I will.” He lets you go, and you all but run back to your room, heart still pounding away in your chest.

Heading inside, you decide to do two things, despite your earlier grievances with those exact two things.

You ninja your way over to your bedside table, swiping your knife holster. You strap it on your thigh, biting back the anger you feel at needing to wear it even in sleep. Then, you take your butterfly, clipping it onto your neck and securing it there, the earphones wrapped around and then tucked into the choker.

Your mind fills with determination and resolve. You’re certain now, stood there wearing the two measures of protection, of this.

You won’t let them come near you. You’ll protect the people you love and hold dear. You’ll make it through this year and come out even stronger than before.

You climb back into bed again, returning to the boys’ welcoming, loving embrace. Cuddling into them almost aggressively, you kiss each of their foreheads. You close your eyes, attempting to sleep once more.

_I won’t let them hurt my family. They’ll have to get through me first_

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	9. Part IX | Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**20 th December 2016 | College Year 2**

Time has passed. The Sauvage and Boucher families have yet to be found.

The weeks have passed by tensely but uneventfully. With Adalicia and Saber absent from college, the notes have stopped, and the threat level has decreased for you all significantly. However, because of the permanent possibility of them showing up somewhere, or sending someone after any one of you, the only times when you’re not armed with your butterfly and knives are when you’re bathing, showering or swimming.

Halloween was just hilarious. To summarise, it involved your group, alcohol for the first time – although you didn’t drink at all–  _Just Dance_  and some rather intense games of “Hide n’ Seek Pocky”.

Now, it’s the 20th of December, and you’re in P.E. once more. Today, it’s self-defence, as opposed to swimming, trampolining, ball games or the equestrian arts.

And you’re bored as all hell.

You see, being an ICAC who has completely finished Level Three training, and so having the capability of moving up to a Level Four rank out of five if you so wish, you’ve got a massive, very much unfair advantage over the students. They’re aware of this, and when doing practice duels, they’re often very eager to try and fight you, many unbelieving of your abilities and skills.

However, every time you fight one of them, it usually ends in a maximum of fifteen seconds, and more often than not with the student who lost completely devastated as well as mildly to moderately injured. The latter depends on how many times they try to get back up.

As such, you have to sit out of these lessons and just watch, or help to guide the other students, but not engage in combat with them.

The class also has a little game going on that continues through the year, almost like a tournament; the students are ranked in terms of how strong they are in fighting on a whole, with a scale of one to sixty-two, since three forms are brought into one class for P.E. when it’s things like this. If someone wants to increase their rank, they have to beat the person above them in a duel, giving the students a more fun, active way to enjoy the exercise and get a competitive kick out of it.

Personally, you don’t like grading someone’s ability to defend themselves from danger, but hey ho. Such is life.

You also personally don’t like that, being an ICAC agent at the level you are, you’re ranked first in the class and have been all year. This means that for the few extremely competitive students there are, you’re the end game. Their goal is to beat you, so they can nab the top spot and call themselves the strongest fighter.

You huff, dropping to the floor against one of the pommel horses. Miss Dupont stands next to you, arms crossed, watching the students practice their movements, positions, attacks and defences closely.

Your boys are in there, all of them paired up: there’s Albert and Byron, Giles and Robert, Sid and Louis, Alyn and Leo, and Nico is duelling with another student since he didn’t mind and the numbers weren’t even. Xander and Tobias are also in this class now, having started college after the half-term holiday finished, and are duelling together.

“I’m so bored.” You groan, sat in your black P.E. uniform. The top is long-sleeved, there being another option with short sleeves, while you’re wearing leggings as well, the most popular choice of bottoms among students. As long as it’s black and you can move in it easily, the college doesn’t care. Combat boots on your feet and your jacket draped over your shoulders, you drop your head back against the pommel horse, asking, “Are you sure I can’t just duel, as long as I’m careful?”

She sends you a chiding look. “Do you want a repeat of the incident when you flipped a student over your head and nearly killed them?” You make a face. “Exactly.”

_Oh, please. That was hardly dangerous enough to kill them. They got up after fifteen minutes._

You tuck your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms around your shins, muttering, “I slipped.”

You can feel her glare without even looking at her.

Your gaze drifts around the large gym, taking in the students duelling and practicing together. Some pairs are two boys, some two girls, and some are one of each, which is nice. It’s good to see that the ones who feel more comfortable with the opposite sex are willing to openly choose them instead.

Just as you think this, your hues settle on the other ICAC student-agent in your year, a girl called Lyonette. She’s nice, if a bit quiet and withdrawn, and she’s pretty good at fighting; her ICAC status gives her an immediate second place in the ranks, so she’s also singled out as someone to take down by the competitive students. You observe her duck and avoid a swift punch from the boy she’s fighting with, then swivel around and sweep the guy off his feet with a swipe of her leg. He lands hard, air whooshing from his lungs harshly, but she merely dances back and relaxes her position.

Your lips twitch up.

“She’s good.” You murmur absently. Miss Dupont follows your eyes, studying the student flat on his back, groaning, while Lyonette waits for him to recover. “She’s a low Level Three, right?”

She hums, nodding slowly. “Yeah. She lacks confidence – if she had it, she’d probably have moved up to a higher Level Three by now.” She gestures at her, offering, “Fancy teaching her a thing or two? If you want to duel, I’ll let you fight her. She’s nearly at your level.”

You blink. “You want me to fight another ICAC agent in front of the other students, who could easily work out that she’s an agent as well, considering that we’re both wearing our butterflies as well?”

She shrugs. “It’s pretty obvious by this point now, anyway. You two and the other years’ student-agents wearing butterflies makes it pretty obvious, unfortunately, since everyone already knows you’re one.”

You frown. “Not my fault in the slightest. Blame Aubrey for that.”

She pats your shoulder comfortingly. “I know. I wasn’t blaming you – you did nothing wrong.” She pushes off the pommel, calling, “Lyonette! Come here, please!”

You send her an incredulous look, eyes wide. “Hang on a tic. You’re serious about this.”

She smiles sweetly. “Oh, completely. Up you get, should-be-Level-Four.”

Your stare turns withering. “I’m not upgrading. I don’t want to be a mentor.”

She chuckles. “It’s a shame. You’d make a good one.” Lyonette approaches now, blonde hair starting to fall from its thick braid in places and grey eyes questioning. She gives you a respectful nod.

You hate that. She, and the other student-agents, all treat you differently because you’re a higher level to them. They almost revere you, just because you’re a better fighter than them. They don’t know you, and yet they decide how they treat you based on your capabilities.

It’s almost insulting, in a way, because they know nothing about you but make assumptions all the same.

Regardless, you give the nod back, shoving yourself to your feet and shaking your limbs out, throwing your jacket on and zipping it up. You start stretching and waking your muscles up while Miss Dupont speaks.

“You’re making good progress, Lyonette; I’m impressed.” Said girl looks relieved at that, some of the tension leaving her. You shake your head, feeling sorry for the impending news she’s about to receive. “So, to see whereabouts you stand now, accurately, I want you to fight ___.”

_Sorry, Lyonette. It wasn’t my idea._

You wander around, stretching, hearing her respond hesitantly, “I don’t think I should, Miss. She’s practically a Level Four – I don’t stand a chance.”

“Oi, ICAC or not, that attitude isn’t acceptable. You have to try and push your limits. You’ve stayed in your comfort zone up until this point, and it’s not going to allow you to improve in the slightest. This isn’t an offer. Just have a go, see where you get, and take the opportunity to learn and improve.”

You can sense her nervousness, even from a good four feet away. Your lips curl up again; you used to be like that. Feeling sufficiently loosened up and now ready to fight, you roll your neck around and crack your back and knuckles, then turn to her with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Just do your best and have a go; however it ends, as long as you’ve tried your hardest, you should be proud of it. I lost a hell of a lot of fights before I got to this point.” You head toward the empty space on the mats where she was fighting before, the boy having gotten up and wandered off by now. “Come on. Let’s just have a try and see how it goes.”

Used to you sitting out of the lesson, the students are watching on curiously, some even interrupting their duels to point and whisper in your direction. The boys and your brothers have all stopped completely, studying you stepping onto the mat with Lyonette following. At their slightly concerned or confused looks, you smile at them, shaking your head.

Lyonette takes her starting position, one that’s taught early on in training to make sure the agent is ready to react to most basic attacks. You don’t see the need in using it now, yourself, but that’s simply because you’ve had so much experience over the years.

You stand there, calm and healthily relaxed, before nodding to her. “I’ll let you start. Whenever you’re ready, go for it. Don’t worry about hurting me, okay? Whatever you feel like you need to do, I can handle it. I’m not going to get angry if you get a good hit in – I’ll be happy for you, so just do what you know you need to do.”

She seems significantly reassured by your words, head drifting up and down. She’s studying you, you see, sizing up your body’s dimensions, stature, poise and strength. You’ve already worked hers out, and are confident that you’ll be able to take her on comfortably.

The students have stopped completely, eager to watch the two best fighters in the college duel with each other. You pay no attention, even doing the same with the boys.

Right now, your eyes are on Lyonette, and that’s it.

She exhales slowly. Her body shifts, preparing for a direct attack.

You can’t help but smile, just a bit.

_We’re both ICAC agents. This is going to be pretty intense._

She lunges at you, body lurching at yours swiftly. Her arm arcs up, fist flying at your face in a perfect, strong swing. You dance back, dodging the hit, before you ease yourself into a circling pattern. Arms still lowered and ready, you keep watching her, manoeuvring yourself around her in a smooth, constant, steady rotation. She seems slightly taken off-guard by your circling, but she adjusts immediately, doing the same with you.

_Good. Move with me. Don’t let me intimidate or corner you._

She breathes out sharply. She moves in again.

She goes in for an abdominal punch, which you spin out of the way of. Just as you face her again, she sends her other fist at your head, aiming for a hit to your temple. Your body snaps down, swerving under the attack. Your fingers shoot out, clamping around her arm.

Shifting your weight against her, your shoulder slams into her upper arm. You plant your foot into the mat hard, using the momentum of your swerve to throw her around you in a fast, somewhat unforgiving spin. You whirl her around in a two-hundred and seventy degrees rotation before letting go.

Her body is launched away from you, whipping around in the air, before she slams onto the mat and rolls. She recovers impressively fast, using the force of your throw herself up and back onto her feet.

There’s gasps and claps from the students. You can hear them murmuring and fawning over the fight, some in particular cooing over how effortless your defence looked.

You sigh softly. They’re so impressed, over something so dark.

Lyonette is back in immediately, and you guide her into the circling rhythm once more. You nod.

_Nice one. Keep going._

Her expression hardens.

She darts at you, fist flying at your sternum. You hop back, arms rising instinctively, ready to defend yourself if she comes in again.

That’s exactly what she does.

She grabs one of your wrists, grip iron-like, before she yanks on you with considerable force. Grunting softly, you twist around, body whipping around like a crocodile does with its pray before consuming it. Your wrist twists, forcing her hand to as well. She’s yanked toward you, off-balance.

When you come to a sudden stop, your hand jerks out from her grip, then flies back toward her shoulder. At the same time, the same side’s leg swings out, in the opposite direction of the hand, arcing straight at her own legs.

Your hand slams into her shoulder, leg knocking her knees out from under her. She all but flies to the side, and you use your leg to twist her around, her body spinning again mid-air. She hits the mat on her front, air leaving her lungs from the impact.

Miss Dupont sends you a wary nod. You return it, relaxing and stepping back a safe distance from the downed girl.

“Lyonette, you alright? You can stop at any time. We don’t want you injuring yourself, okay?” The teacher reminds her, standing beside the mat. The blonde’s head comes up, eyes focusing in on your, currently, unthreatening form. You give her a smile.

“It’s your call. I don’t want to end up hurting you.” She inhales deeply, muscles trembling slightly. You expect her to give up, simply because of how much she’s been thrown around, and in such a short amount of time.

But then, she stands, regaining her posture once more. “Again. But, this time, can you attack first?”

You blink, surprised by the request. “Attack first?” You glance at the teacher. She shrugs. You shift your own stance accordingly, head drifting up and down. “Okay, if you’re sure.” Lyonette makes a sound of agreement, to which you exhale softly, inwardly apologising to her for what will probably be the next thirty to sixty seconds. “As you wish. Let’s go.”

She swallows, jaw clenching. Your mind switches over into the offensive.

_She’s taller than me, and she’s fast. Direct attacks won’t work. She’s strong, so I can’t rely on force alone to take her down. She’s probably more confident with defending. I’ll have to be creative._

You mentally cuss.

_This is just like fighting Lucian._

You’ve got a plan ready. You make your move.

You shoot toward her, releasing a barrage of attacks on her. All at once, you swing a fist at her face, watching her duck around it and lunge for you. You block her punch with your forearm, swinging under it and going for her stomach.

Limiting your force, your fist slams into her stomach. She gasps, winded, hunching over sharply.

Wincing and apologising mentally once more, your hand flies up to her lower neck. Being gentle, you use your momentum to force her back, swinging your leg out again and knocking hers out from under her.

Just as her feet hit the floor, you bring her upper body down using her neck, hardly applying any actual pressure on her throat. You shield her head from hitting the floor, arm curled around it protectively, before you lay it on the mat.

The movement takes all of three seconds to execute. Letting her go, you step back.

_Yeah, she’s done for the day._

She’s panting away, gasping for breath, face contorted with pain. You cross your arms, ignoring the cheers and applause of the awed students, before eyeing Miss Dupont. “No more. She’s had enough.”

She sighs. “Agreed.” She tilts her head, calling, “Lyonette, you alright, hun? She  _was_  gentle with you, to be fair, but still. Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, legs curling in and bending. Hands pressing against her stomach, she groans quietly, answering in a hoarse, croaking voice, “Yeah, I’m fine. That was a good punch. Ow.”

You wince, moving forward to kneel beside her. “Can I see? I don’t think I hit you hard enough to leave a mark, but I want to check.” She nods, nudging her top up. Her stomach is devoid of any indication that it’s been hit, apart from a very, very marginally pink mark, but you can tell it won’t bruise. “Yeah, you probably won’t have a bruise.”

You tug her top down now, eyes meeting hers. You smile proudly, genuine, kind satisfaction swirling in your gaze. “Well done. That was really good – you’re really improving. Keep it up, and you’ll only get better and better. I’m really impressed.”

Her face lights up, eyes sparkling with relief, joy and what looks like pride as well. “Seriously?” You nod, humming surely. She laughs breathlessly, almost singing, “Thank God. I’m so happy. I thought you’d think I was awful.”

You shake your head, grinning down at her. “Nope. You’re really damn good – you gave me a few close calls there. Have more faith in yourself, okay? You’re a natural. Just keep working at it.” She nods, determined. You pat her shoulder, then stand up, offering her a hand. “Ready to get up, or do you need another minute?”

She takes your hand, grinning back. It’s the first time you’ve seen the expression on her, and it’s stunning.

You pull her up gently, steadying her, before squeezing her hand while she says appreciatively, “Thank you, for helping me up and fighting me. I was really nervous about even talking to you because you’re a Level Three, but you’re so nice and relaxed. I’m grateful for that.” Her cheeks gain a slightly pink tint, and she laughs out, eyes lowering to the floor, “Can we call a truce for now with a hug?”

You sigh inwardly.

_Of course, she wants a hug. Everyone just can’t resist a hug from the person in the room that arguably is the most uncomfortable with hugging people, apart from her boyfriends and family. Why do people ask me for them so much?_

But, do you listen to these thoughts? Of course not. “Yeah, sure.” You reply, releasing her hand.

She hugs you gently, and you do the same with her, feeling her exhale and relax against you. You feel distantly uncomfortable, not nearly as strong as with Mimi in September, but you’re still not particularly comfortable.

That instantaneous reaction from, that almost recurring theme of those who hug you becoming calmer and more comfortable, jogs your memory mid-internal-suffering. You remember what your mum and Mimi both said, when they talked about your personality.

_“I just feel like I can be honest with you. You’re always supporting people. It’s almost hard, I guess, to not want to hug you and stuff. A lot of people say that, you know. You’re, like, magnetic or something.”_

_“But they’re all rare cases, and are part of the minority of people who don’t like you. They don’t count… Trust me, I’m not wrong. You’re adored, ___, way more than you think. You’ll probably never believe it because you’re just like your dad and you’re way too harsh on yourself, but you really are loved.”_

_I don’t understand it. I don’t get it at all. I don’t see what qualities I have that others don’t, or that are particularly endearing. I’ve met plenty of people who’ve been much more obviously charismatic and attractive in personality than me._

You suppose you could ask her, considering how she’s apparently quite relaxed right now.

“Hey. Can I ask you something really quick?” You mumble, feeling her nod into your shoulder. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to word this correctly. “I keep finding that quite a lot of people want to hug me, and keep telling me that they feel really comfortable around me or something along those lines. I don’t really get what they mean or why they’d say that, and was just wondering if you had any idea why. Am I missing something? I just wanted to ask, since you hugged me as well.”

Much to your surprise, she laughs, withdrawing from you and looking you in the eye. “Let me guess. You’ve never heard of a magnetic personality.”

_Magnetic, again. Three times, now. I can guess what it means, but is it an actual thing?_

You arch an eyebrow. “Er, someone said something about me being magnetic a while ago, but I’ve never heard of that as a concept.”

She nods, humming. “Oh, yeah, it’s a well-known thing. Some people have magnetic personalities – we learnt it in Business. We’ve got an anagram for the ten most common qualities of it: an apple can’t even ease intricate old minds, short of halving wariness.”

You stare at her like she’s speaking Yiddish.

She bursts into stifled giggles at your baffled expression. “Someone with a magnetic personality naturally attracts people to them and draws them in, sometimes without them knowing and sometimes with them knowing. They’re charismatic to the point where they’re almost inhumanly endearing, and bring people into them as a result. They make other people feel comfortable around them, and it’s that which causes those people to be so friendly, open and usually helpful toward them.”

And that’s what you are?

_Are they kidding? What part of me is magnetic?_

“Er, somehow I doubt that. I’m a pretty sarcastic person, and I can be quite blunt at times.” You counter gently, rubbing the back of your head. She shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter if you are or not. As long as those other positive qualities – authenticity, active listening, confidence, eloquence, energy, imagination, motivation, optimism, a sense of humour, and being well-versed are there, the magnetism will still be present.”

You blink, trying to process the qualities and remember them. She chuckles. “Not every magnetic personality will be the same, obviously. Your quirks are yours. However, oftentimes, a magnetic person’s negative qualities will be received better than someone who’s not as magnetic if at all. Their whole personality comes across as so welcoming and accepting that their faults tend to be a bit easier to deal with than in others.”

Your brain may as well be exploding. You’re being likened to objects with a supercharged, forceful effect on others. You don’t think that’s something to celebrate.

Several students are clamouring around the two of you now, and a few in particular are all but hissing at Lyonette, gesturing madly for her to go and talk to them. She nods to them, giving your shoulder a tender squeeze.

“___, a magnetic personality like yours is something to be very, very proud of, and something to use for good, okay? Many will instinctively gravitate to you, look to you for advice and guidance, and will trust in you when they wouldn’t normally. You’ve already been doing it, for years, apparently without realising it.” She grins again. “I mean, just look at your guys, and all the students. You’re loved, ___, by so many people. I think you view yourself a lot more critically than you really should, so try to see yourself the way others do.”

She lets go now, bouncing off the mat to her friends, apparently recovered from the punch. “See you! Thanks again for practicing with me!”

With that she disappears into the crowd of students like a ghost. They fawn and fuss over her, many casting excited or amazed glances at you. You remain stood on the mat, mind reeling, alone. The other students for the most part continue to stare up at you.

_That’s why this is happening?_

Your eyes drift down to your hand. You stare at your fingers, at the ring sat snugly on you thumb, proudly bearing the emblem of your group.

_All my life, I’ve been pulling people into me, without even realising? I’ve heard of really charismatic people, but that just seems… well, ridiculous._

All of the students who’ve opened up to you about bullying, their home lives, problems in school and college. The boys, letting you in even when they had shut everyone else out. Normally timid and nervous people like Lyonette immediately easing up and becoming animated as soon as they talk to you, even if just for a few minutes. Mimi, granted suffering from loneliness, practically deifying you and trusting you immensely just because you talked and did P.E. with her.

You can’t deny that it sounds correct.

_The evidence is there. It just makes no logical sense._

“___. Oi.” A hand comes down on your shoulder gently, but you don’t look at who it is, too busy trying to rationalise a completely abstract concept into a solid, undoubtable logic. “Hey. She’s fine. Are you worried about hurting her? Honestly, she’s okay. She was just beaming away at you – what’s up?”

_Ah. That’s Miss Dupont._

“Nothing.” Your murmur comes out soft, almost too soft for her to hear. Your fingers clench, teeth finding your tongue for a brief moment and biting down, before you release the muscle and request, “Can I go outside for a minute, please?”

You can feel her confusion without even looking at her. “Er, yeah, if you want. Go ahead.”

You nod, still not looking at her. “Thank you.”

You move out from under her hand, stepping off the mat and making your way across the gym. The students part to let you through, several patting your shoulders and arms, congratulating you on your victory as you go past. You thank them distractedly, voice distant and unfocused, until you reach the door to the fields, equestrian centre and running tracks. Pushing it open, you step out and close it behind you.

It’s nippy, the wind chilled and almost icy with the winter wind. Crossing your arms and wrapping them around your stomach, you walk across the grass, staring up at the mostly clear sky. The odd cloud dusts the blue, breaking apart the consistent colour, and the sun is high, it being noon.

You make your way over to the equestrian centre, straight ahead of you, since you left the sports hall from the side entrance. There’s a class, high school ones, riding about in the pasture, but several horses are grazing in the pens.

One in particular that you like to ride, nicknamed Antoinette by you after Marie Antoinette, since she’s rather ruthless sometimes, is amongst those grazing. With black fur, grey spots dusted across her, she’s tall, strong and fast, one of the more powerful horses the college has. Mr. Summers, the teacher of the class, notices you approaching her and waves, apparently not too bothered about you being there. You wave back, heading over to Antoinette.

“Hey, girl. How’s the queen of the pen? Still bullying the others, I’m guessing. You big meanie.” She huffs out a breath, stretching her nose out to you over the pen. You grin softly, reaching out to pat the side of her nose, then her face, before resting your forehead against the bridge of it. “Nah. You’re mush on the inside, just like me. You act tough, but you’re a big softie with the people you like.”

You sigh now, starting to murmur to yourself, thoughts returning to the apparent magnetic personality you have.

“So, I’ve been wondering for years if people have paid attention to me or spoken to me for bad reason, and assumed they’ve had bad intent for at least some of them, but that’s not the case, apparently.” You close your eyes, stroking her fur gently. “Evidently not. Seems like I was wrong, and assumed too much, even though I still don’t fully believe it.”

She butts her nose up, into you more, which makes you laugh softly. “But I think I don’t want to believe it because, if it’s true, then I’ve been cruel to so many people. I’ve stayed to myself in my little bubble with the boys, happy and content to shut the rest of the world out, when people have been wanting and trying to get close to me. I’ve ignored them, and haven’t even noticed that they’ve apparently wanted to get close to me.”

You snort, rubbing your face into her nose, nuzzling it affectionately. “Robert tries to sing my praises and tell me I’m selfless, but I’m really not. When it comes down to it, I look out for myself, and that’s it.”

You lift your head, knowing you need to get back to lesson soon. Eyes opening, you gaze up at the sky, shivering at a particularly icy gust of wind as it whips around you.

“Fuck, it’s cold. Whatever. I’ve gotten through life smoothly enough like this. I’m not changing, not for anyone. I want my boys and family, and that’s it.” You kiss her muzzle, getting another butted nose in response. “Oi, you. Don’t get all moody with me-”

Your eyes drift to the side, just a little bit, for a fraction of a second. They zero in on the fencing surrounding the college.

At least eight people, obscured in black trench coats, sprint up to the fences through the trees. They launch themselves up, most impossibly lithe, nimble and controlled, almost cat-like in their movements. In maybe four seconds, they’ve thrown themselves over the fencing and are bolting straight for the doors to the college building.

_Intruders. It could be people coming after the agents._

Panic floods you. You duck down, knowing that you have to stay hidden to keep yourself safe, but that you have to alert the teachers. Pressing the button on your butterfly for an emergency broadcast, you shout over to Mr. Summers, yelling, “Daryl! Over there! Someone’s gotten in!”

He whips around, following your gaze.

As soon as he sees the figures heading for the college buildings, he starts screaming orders at his students, still atop the horses. “Everyone, dismount, now! Run to the P.E. hall and hide in there right now!” He looks to you desperately. “Get them inside!”

You nod. He takes off, bolting straight after the figures, phone out in a second.

You straighten up, hollering at the students, “Hurry up! Don’t worry about the horses, just get out, now! With me!”

They start to panic, screaming and clamouring to get to you. They close the pen’s gates behind themselves, then sprint over to you. Once they’re all with you, you sprint it to the P.E. hall, throwing the door open, then the other. “In, now! In!”

They do as you say, pouring through the doors into the already-busy hall. When everyone’s in, you slam the doors shut, whirling around to your teacher. Miss Dupont sprints over, shouting over the confused year thirteens and terrified year eights. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

You reach out for her keys, and she hands them to you without hesitation. Locking the doors, you answer, gushing out, “At least eight people in black trench coats just jumped the fences and headed for the college building. They could be coming after the ICAC agents, most likely the other student ones.”

As soon as you say this, she pales. Then, she’s kicking into action, ordering, “Lock all the doors and do not open them unless you know for certain it’s someone you trust. Test their identity first. You don’t have any weapons on you, do you?”

You grimace, reaching down to your boot. You yank one of the covers up on you holster and slip its knife out, showing her it briefly. “I have three.”

She sighs in relief. “Thank God. If there’s at least eight of them, we need as many ICAC agents after them as we can. You’ve started an emergency broadcast, I’d hope?”

You nod, returning the knife. She exhales shakily. “Okay. I’m going to leave – can I trust you to keep order here? If they question why you’re in charge, tell them it’s because you’re an agent, and if you really need to, just say you’re nearly a Level Four. Alright? I’m sorry – the more hands we have dealing with the threat, the less likely it is that one of us will get hurt.”

You shake your head fiercely. “It’s fine, go. Don’t worry about us. Just focus on finding them.”

She nods, turning to the class. She practically roars, loud enough to be heard over everyone and silence the panicked conversation in the room, “Guys, listen to ___! There’s a security threat in the academy grounds and I need to go and help; she’s your teacher until I come back! Do as she says, without hesitation!”

With that, she prints to the other doors, which lead to the inside of the P.E. building. You go with her, locking the door behind her when she leaves. As soon as this is done, you’re sprinting over to the last set of doors, which open on the opposite side of the hall to the ones you left through before. Locking them, you then look around the gym.

Everyone’s panicked now, trying to talk over each other, the younger ones nearing hysterics. You need to get them under control. You steel yourself, breathing in deeply.

And then, you really, really shout, for the first time in your life, voice booming through the hall. “Every single one of you, be quiet! I want everyone silent, right now!”

The conversations cease, all eyes turning to you. You carry on swiftly, while you’ve got their attention. “All of you, sit down! I need to be able to see through the room, so get down right now!”

Shockingly, they do as you say. The year eights sit to the left, while the year thirteens take up the middle and right side of the hall. You bless your stars, sighing and wincing at your now aching throat.

“Alright,” You lower your voice, so that you can be heard but aren’t straining yourself. “Sorry for shouting so loud. I need everyone to stay as calm as possible, and as quiet as possible. I need to be able to hear at any time if anything happens, so I can keep everyone in here safe. Am I understood?”

There’s hesitant nods. You exhale slowly. “Good.” Shoving the keys into your boot, the one without your knives, you glance around everyone. “Right. I’ll tell you what I know; at least eight people, presumably intruders, just jumped the fence of the academy grounds and ran for the college building. The teachers are dealing with it right now, but we need to stay calm, quiet and ready to move if it’s necessary.”

Looks are shared, but most manage to stay silent, and the rest keep ay talking at a low murmur. “At least some of my year definitely knows this, but I wouldn’t be surprised if anyone else did, so I’m just going to be honest with you all. I’m an ICAC agent too. I’m trained to deal with things like this, and to protect people. Many of you will probably sit there, look at me and think I’m spewing nonsense, but that’s the truth. I promise, I will do everything I can to keep everyone in here safe if it comes to there being danger here with us. Okay?”

You hate speeches. You really, really do. You also hate public speaking in general.

“So,” You sigh out. “Please, please, please, just work with me. Keep the noise down, stay sat, and trust me as much as you can. Hopefully this will be a minor incident and everything will go back to normal in a bit, but we don’t know that for certain. Until then, all we can do is wait. Agreed?”

Glances are shared. Whispers erupt. Unsure expressions line many of the faces before you.

But, at the same time, a good amount of those faces show trust. They show faith and cooperation. Nods.

“Thank you.” You bow your head in appreciation, then reach up to tug the earphones of your butterfly out and pop them in your ears.

Immediately, there’s chaos.

“Where are they, Goddammit?”

“I can’t find them!”

“Where in hell are they?”

“Why aren’t the cameras picking anything up?”

You hold down the bottom-right button of your butterfly for four seconds, isolating your audio stream to Lucian. As soon as you have, you start speaking, thankful for the silence in your earphones. “Lucian? Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear. I can see your feed; well done with calming the kids down and getting them to cooperate.” He responds immediately. You pace up and down the long edge of the hall, straining to listen for any other sounds around you, while he continues. “The intruders are somewhere in the grounds. We’re hunting them down, but they’re good, and know their way around. They’re not in the primary school, and we don’t think they’re in the high school.”

You shake your head. “I saw them jump over and run in, Lucian; it was me that alerted the teachers. They headed straight for the college building.”

He pauses. “Shit. It’s likely they’re after you and Lyonette, then. You need to be extremely careful, ___. We’re on our way – just hang in there.”

You thought as much. Nodding, you peer into the sea of faces, spying for Lyonette. You find her at the back of the room, huddled there with her friends. She meets your eyes across the room, nodding calmly. You do the same. “We’re alright. Let’s just hope, if they’re looking for us, they don’t realise we’re in the sports hall.”

He grunts. “Good. And yes, but don’t let the kids hear you saying that.”

“Understood,  _dad_.” You drawl, both for comedic effect and as a little inside joke. He manages a soft laugh.

“Watch it, agent, or you’re grounded.” You return the laugh now, just a little.

Despite this, though, you suddenly become painfully aware of the knives against your leg inside your boot.

“I’d like to see you try.”

**♡** **♔** **♡**

Ten minutes tick over, painfully slow, painfully tense and painfully uncomfortable.

You must have made at least one hundred laps of the length of the hall by now, have checked that the boys, Xander and Tobias are alright, and have also done a few rounds with the other students. Everyone is coping well, talking amongst themselves quietly, still sat on the floor. Lucian stays with you, that comforting little voice in your ears, the whole time.

They haven’t found the intruders, and it’s deeply unsettling everyone. The cameras aren’t able to pick them up. Even Lucian is uneasy by this point.

You’re leaning against the wall, talking to the boys and some students from your year, when the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot pierces through the quiet. The crack is heard even from within the hall.

You jerk up and toward the main door. The kids immediately start to shout and scream, panic overtaking sense, and you yell out quickly, “Oi! Quiet, now! Silence!”

The noise dies down, but one girl in particular has started crying, a year eight. Groaning internally, you sprint through the students to where she is, curled up and sobbing into her knees. You crouch down and touch her arms gently, speaking in a low, hushed murmur, while her friends try to calm her. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. We’re alright. We’re safe-”

She wails over you, crying out, “We’re not! The last time I heard a gunshot, my dad got shot! He nearly died!”

You grimace. You weren’t expecting that. At the same time, your heart aches just a bit; you know the feeling. “Okay. Well, he’s still alive, isn’t he?” She nods. “So are you. And as long as I’m alive, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you alive as well. I just need you to trust me and believe that I’ll-”

She’s working herself into deeper hysteria. She cuts you off again, sobbing out, “No, no, no! You don’t get it! So many people got shot! It’s just like then, when it was the one shot, and then more afterward! You don’t understand – I still can’t forget about it, even now! The whole square was just full of people screaming, and they were shooting, and I can’t get it out of my head!”

_The square. She couldn’t possibly have…_

Your expression remains calm, even though your heart is mourning all over again. When you speak, your words are soft. “Was that in 2014, in May? When the Wagner Conglomerate shot people in the independence square in town?”

Her glazed eyes meet yours, full of shock. “Y-Yeah.”

One of her friends, a boy, scowls at you. “Way to go, reminding her of it all over again!”

You don’t even look at him.

Instead, your hands settle on her face very lightly, and you murmur to her tenderly, deciding that the only way to calm someone hysterical in this way is to let them know they’re not the only one suffering.

“Hey. Do you want to know something?” She watches you, confused and tears still streaming down her face. She looks even more baffled at the smile touching at your lips. “There was a man who was killed that day. He was shot in the head and died instantly. Did you know that?”

Her head rises and lowers slowly. “Yeah. He was the only one who died.”

Your eyes soften, just a bit. “Yeah. That man was my dad. I was stood right in front of him when it happened.”

The students in the vicinity all stiffen or gasp, visibly shocked. You laugh quietly, although you’re not quite sure why, when normally you’d be in emotional turmoil talking about this. “I know how it feels. I saw him die right in front of me; I was holding his hand when he fell and didn’t get back up. I was fourteen. It took me a long time to be able to even think about it without crying.”

You brush her tears away, telling her, “But look at me now. I’m here protecting everyone in this hall, and might have to face someone with a gun when I don’t have one myself.”

Her eyes go wide, realisation setting in. Your eyes remain kind, watching her sobs quieten, then weaken. You stand up, hand settling atop her hair lightly, before uttering, “I’m scared, as well. I don’t know what’s going to happen or if I’m going to be able to keep everyone in here safe. But, I need to try. I have to, for all of us. So, can you try for me, please? Just for a bit longer, until the teachers come back?”

She nods furiously, more tears escaping, but without sound this time. You remove your hand, stepping back. “Thank you.”

Turning around now, you storm toward the doors, announcing, “Everyone, stay low and stay quiet. Now. If you’re all talking, I can’t hear what’s going on.” They fall silent. You direct your words at Lucian. “They can’t take much more of this, Lucian. What’s going on?”

Nothing. You scowl. “Lucian. Talk. Oi! I need updates!”

It’s completely silent. A shiver wracks your spine, instincts prickling and curling at something you can’t see. You speak again, eyes flicking between the three sets of doors in the room. “Lucian! Please, talk to me, damn it-”

Three more gunshots. Audible screaming. Roaring yells. Another gunshot. All from the main doors to the rest of the sports hall.

“___, they’re coming for you. We’ve just caught them on the cameras, and the agents are after them, but they’re fast. I think they’ve realised you and Lyonette are in there. Get ready to fight right now – stand behind the door to the rest of the P.E. building.”

The orders register instantly. You lurch toward the door, shouting, “Everyone, get down, now! Cover your heads!”

They scramble to do so, using the pommel horses and other equipment where they can to cover themselves. You yank your knives out of your holster, two in your dominant hand and one in your non-dominant hand. Adrenaline flushes through you, heart thundering and mind reeling. You position yourself behind the door, knives braced at the ready. “Okay. I’m here.”

“You’ve got maybe thirty seconds. They’ve been using the blind spots in the cameras - they must have had someone in the college to tell them where they could go to avoid being seen, but we’re pursuing them now. There’s nine, and six are already down. Two are in a gunfight with our agents, so one is probably coming for you.”

Lucian’s voice is low, dripping with authority and absolute command. “You have permission to kill. If you need to cut their throat to keep those kids safe, ___, do it. You have every authorisation. Tell Xander and Tobias to stay out of it unless it’s desperate – they’re vulnerable because they’re unarmed.”

You swallow hard, nodding. You send Xander and Tobias, across the room, a hard glare. “Stay there. Do not get involved – you’re not armed. Lucian’s orders.” You breathe in deeply, controlling your body’s response to the sudden onslaught of stress and ignoring the conflicted looks your brothers and the boys are sending you. “This bastard’s going to regret targeting us-”

A thunderous bang booms through the hall. The door nearly caves in. Someone’s trying to kick it down.

The kids are screaming and crying again. Your heart pounds away, body jolting harshly at the force used against the door. You grip your knives tighter.

Three gunshots ring from the door. The bullets rip through it, metal flying out with a shriek. They fire into the floor, embedding in the laminate.

This is it.

_This is for me, my boys, my brothers, and the people I need to protect._

The doors are flung open, and one nearly crashes into you. You kick it back. It slams closed again, hard enough to make the walls tremble.

The hooded figure before you whirls around, a pistol in his hand, aimed low at the floor.

You lunge for him, knife slicing at his wrist. You feel it cut through deeply, and the person – a man, you see now – howls with animalistic fury, agony on his ageing face. He drops the gun, blood spurting from his wrist. Wasting no time, you use the distraction. You kick him square in the chest, causing him to stumble back, trying to stem the blood pouring from his open veins.

You swipe the gun from the floor, knives ready to be thrown with the other hand. The pistol is up in a second, homing in straight on his face, while you scream, “On the floor right now! Get down with your hands on your head! Two seconds, or I’ll shoot you where you stand!”

He practically falls to his knees, terror clear on his face amongst the agony, wrist gushing blood all over the floor. It’s obvious he’s not trained to kill, kidnap, threaten or hold people hostage in the slightest. You train the pistol on his head, interrogating, “Why are you here? Who are you after? Tell me now or so help me God, I’ll kill you anyway!”

He shakes his head, shouting back, “We’re after ___ ____ and Lyonette Fontaine! We came here to kill them! Please don’t shoot me!”

Your heart drops.

_So, this is an assassination attempt._

“And why’s that? What the hell did they do to deserve it?” You question further. He sounds close to tears now.

“They’re highly valued by the ICAC, who have ruined the nobility of Wysteria! They ran our families into the ground, or out of the country, or even to this! I was a noble before they caused our networks to collapse and our businesses to fail!” He snaps.

_Ah. So, that’s why that was the worst, most delayed, ridiculous attempt at an assassination that I’ve ever seen._

He recoils with fear when you force the barrel of the pistol against his forehead. “We thought if we could take them out like this, in the academy they’ve always poured copious funding into, they’d back off! We didn’t know the whole damn thing is run by them!”

Your rage is mounting. You shake your head. “You hearing this, Lucian?”

“All of it. Knock him out.”

“With pleasure.” You glare down at the man. “Say hello to one of your targets, ___ ____, you bastard.”

You remove the gun. He lifts his face, fury written across it.

Your knee smashes into his temple. He crumples to the ground, limp. Blood pools around his wrist.

You drag his arms behind his back, then kneel down, one of them atop his neck to keep him still if he wakes up. Your eyes practically burn with rage, glaring down the corridor. You’re half expecting more attackers to come.

But, they don’t. Maybe a minute passes, and then Mr. Summers and Miss Dupont are sprinting through the hallway, pistols in their hands.

“Oh my God,” The latter gasps out, dropping down beside you.

She takes the pistol from you, then restrains the man herself despite him being unconscious, while Mr. Summers tells you to unlock the doors to outside. You snap up, doing as he says and throwing them open as fast as you can. He orders the kids to run out, where you see teachers waiting, armed with pistols, to escort them out. They sprint out, the hoard of terrified students pouring from the hall in maybe forty seconds.

The boys don’t leave. Neither do Xander or Tobias. Nor does Lyonette.

Instead, the boys and your brothers go to you immediately. You throw off your jacket, it having gotten blood on it, before you sprint to them.

You throw yourself into their waiting arms, and you don’t know who’s hugging you with how many hands are touching you. You’re passed around, embraced and kissed on your head and face and hair, those you love thanking the heavens that you’re alive and safe.

You don’t stray even inches from them as the whole academy is evacuated. Even when you hastily collect your things at the instruction of Miss Dupont, and are told to get home as fast as you can, you never, ever end up with less than two of them touching you at any given time.

It’s chaos. Everyone is running from the academy, running to escape the threat that should never have been able to breach its defences.

You all bolt to the cars. Xander and Tobias come with you all, and Sid and Byron tear away from the academy at full speed, Lucian ordering you to get home instantly.

You can barely think, barely breathe, as you’re crushed in Robert and Giles’ arms, shaking with such force that you’re certain you’re going to have a seizure. You can’t process any of it. Your body, mind and emotions are still trying to realign themselves, trying to keep up with everything they’ve just been through.

Getting through the incident itself is easy; the adrenaline kicks in, your body goes into auto-pilot, and your emotions shut off. Logic is centre-place in your thoughts, so everything comes to you without any effort.

But afterward, once it’s done, when you hadn’t had preparation beforehand… it’s overwhelming.

One minute, you’re in the car. The next, you’re in your house.

Things are moved about. There’s so much noise.

You’re in someone’s lap.

Suddenly, you’re not anything anymore.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

When you next regain consciousness, it’s not pleasant.

Trapped in a nightmare of being shot, over and over and over again, you wake up screaming. Your body thrashes about, terrified and tense and consumed by the horrors of what you’ve seen. Hands restrain you, holding you down, brushing your hair back and stroking your face. Hushed, soothing voices murmur to you, calming you.

Familiar. Warm. Loving.

_Not belonging to enemies._

Your eyes fly open.

The boys are all around you, standing or kneeling on or around your bed. The lights are on, the blinds halfway down, allowing you to see that it’s dark outside. Gasping for breath, you tremble where you lie, trying to work out what the hell’s going on.

Robert and Giles are beside you, sat next to you. Giles cradles your hands in his, while Robert hushes you, cradling your face. “___. ___, listen. It’s me, Princess. It’s Robert. You’re alright. You’re safe, and so are we. Everyone is. You’re fine, Treasure, I swear. No one’s hurt and the people who were threatening us are gone. Okay? Look at me.”

Your eyes snap to his. He leans in close, brushing his lips over your forehead, nudging his nose against yours, gaze never leaving your own. “Breathe, Princess. I want you to breathe for me. Calm. You’re absolutely fine. We’re all here with you; deep breaths. In.” You do as he says, controlling your breathing, eyes trained on his amber hues. He breathes with you, giving you a rhythm to mimic. “Good girl. Out. In, out. In, out. Beautiful.”

He kisses your cheeks, stroking your face ever so gently. You start to become more coherent, thoughts still fuzzy but making more sense now. His name is the first and only thing you can compute, can think of and produce. “R-Robert.” He heaves out a sigh, seemingly of relief, once you speak. “Robert. Robert-”

The tears come. It’s all hitting you, now. It’s finally registering.

“Oh, Princess. Come here.” He sighs out, tugging you forward and onto his lap. Giles lets go of you to allow him, and you cling to Robert instantly, arms anchoring around his neck almost painfully tightly. He kisses your temple again and again, lips never leaving your skin. “It’s alright. We’re here.”

You need to understand what’s going on. Sobs starting to form in your throat, you choke out the important questions around them. “What happened? Those people- where are they? Is anyone- anyone hurt? The students… your bags and stuff. Explain what happened. Please. I’m so confused.”

Giles’ hand finds your back, rubbing your spine soothingly. He answers your questions, speaking even when you start to cry into Robert’s shoulder. “No one on our side was hurt. All of the agents involved are safe and secure. Two of the attackers are dead, and seven others are injured but under police custody now. A state of emergency was declared by the king and queen shortly after it happened, and Wysteria is now on high alert. They’ve called off school for the last two weeks of term while they try to improve the security of all of Wysteria’s educational facilities.”

He exhales shakily, leaning forward to press his lips to the bottom of your nape, where he carries on explaining in a mumble. “We were brought our things by ICAC agents, and those of us who live in the dorms were escorted back briefly to collect supplies to sustain ourselves with. We cannot remain in the dorms right now because the academy is not safe for the moment, and so we will now be staying with Sid and his father for the time being.”

That makes sense. Still sobbing, you nod, feeling Robert’s hands massaging your waist soothingly. Giles speaks once more. “The living attackers have all admitted to their crimes and confessed their motives; they were nine of a larger group of nobles hindered by the ICAC’s intervention in Dregea, and were planning on killing you and Lyonette to harm the ICAC in return, and give them a clear warning to cease their actions against the fraudulent nobility.

“The locations of the remaining nobles and their families were given by those caught, and said people have been arrested, all pending investigation and trial, and now unable to leave Wysteria.”

Your poor mind can only compute one thing from all of this.

“S-So… it’s over?”

Their reaction to your words could kill you.

They kiss you, hug you and hold your hands, squeezing them and stroking your skin where they can. Your name is a sighed murmur from them all, relieved and loving and adoring, while also agonised and exhausted. Robert responds to the question directly, still cradling you on his knee. “It’s over, Treasure. They’re can’t and won’t hurt us anymore. The threat from them is completely gone.”

Just like you expect, the relief sends you into even more intense sobbing. You’re free. No more running, or hiding, or carrying knives or wearing a butterfly. You’re finally safe and with your boys. You’re okay.

“How long have… have I been asleep?” You wail out.

“About eight hours, Sweetheart.” Byron’s voice responds in front of you. He comes to sit behind Robert, so he can kiss the crown of your head, explaining, “You went into shock. You were in and out of consciousness on the way home, and then ended up falling completely unconscious a little while after we arrived here. ICAC medics came to make sure you hadn’t been harmed, and they checked you over. Your blood pressure was low, but otherwise you were fine, and they were satisfied that you could remain at home.”

That sounds correct, considering how you don’t remember much of coming home.

_But it’s over now. It’s done with._

“We…” You whimper. “We’re finally safe. We’re okay.”

Robert nods, sighing heavily into your neck. “Yes. We’re completely and utterly safe now, Treasure. They’re not a problem anymore, and we’re all unharmed, thanks to you.”

You barely stop crying for the next hour and a half, but the boys really don’t care at all.

Your mum, Lucian, Xander and Tobias race in after a while, hearing you awake, and crush you in hugs.

Lucian barely lets go of you, practically turning to stone around you, shaking just a little bit. He assures you that he’s taken care of the reports for your action response to the attacker, and so you won’t need to do anything administrative yourself, which is a major relief. He tells you over and over again how proud he is of you, how you did beautifully in protecting the kids, yourself and Lyonette, and in keeping them calm even though you were alone.

He’s never praised you so much in your life.

Your mum does the same, naturally, along with Xander and Tobias. They thank you, hugging and kissing you, grateful that you’re safe.

They stay for a good while, just appreciating that you’re alive and conscious. When they finally leave, giving you time to rest with the guys, you all unanimously decide to go to bed. You zombie your way through getting changed and ready, still suffering from the shock, limbs in a constant state of weakness and trembling at every given moment.

By the time you finish brushing your teeth, you’re barely able to stand. Your limbs shake violently, body still trying to work through the adrenaline that has been poured into it so swiftly and suddenly.

Giles enters the en suite, takes one look at you gripping the sink for support, and almost bursts into tears.

“Precious. Princess… ___.” He utters your names, rushing over to you.

He straightens you up, then scoops you into his arms immediately afterward, cradling you against his chest protectively. Your body feels tiny to him, so vulnerable and quivering so badly, and it’s heart-breaking. He swallows hard, walking back out of the bathroom with you. The others, stood around the room tensely, watch on, concerned or distraught at the state you’re in. Giles speaks lowly, ordering,

“Sid, Alyn, Leo. You three stay with her tonight.” The three, having been stood silently, now move, not hesitating in the slightest.

Alyn approaches Giles, arms held out, and the Christophe hands you over with a nod. Alyn shifts you up in his arms, keeping you close, before making a beeline for your bed. He presses his lips to your hair hard, whispering, “I’ve got you, Sugar. We all do. We’ll protect you now.”

You make a strangled sort of noise, quiet and weak, in the back of your throat. He climbs up and onto the bed, already in his pyjamas like the others. Sid and Leo keep the covers back until Alyn has lied down, settling you atop his chest. Once he’s in, they climb in themselves, Sid on Alyn’s left and Leo on his right. They lie down themselves, and the others sort themselves out with where they’re sleeping with hardly any verbal communication. Byron, Giles and Robert take the sofa-bed, with Albert, Nico and Louis staying on the beanbags.

The lights go off, and the room falls silent. Your shuddered, irregular breaths seem painfully loud amidst the quiet.

Alyn’s hands are on your side and head. Leo and Sid have each taken your hands, Leo kissing away at your fingers and knuckles, while Sid has your palm pressed to his lips. Alyn murmurs sweet nothings to you, voice warm and deep, rumbling out from him. The vibrations of his voice, and the lovely little words he whispers, manage to calm you despite how you’re still in the process of coming down from the whole day.

You don’t want to sleep, but you couldn’t fight it if you tried.

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	10. Part X | Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**21 st December 2016 | Christmas Holidays, College Year 2**

Voices whisper around you softly. You can’t understand what they’re saying at first.

Your hands aren’t being held anymore, and the absence of the touch makes you wonder why. You’re still on top of Alyn, his heart beating strong and a little fast under you. He’s talking to someone.

There’s an almost lulling murmur nearby. Louis. French.

“ _Je peux rester_.”  _I can stay_.

Giles’ voice responds, just as feathery, airy and light like the breeze. “ _D'accord. S'il vous plaît_.” Agreed. Please.

Alyn sighs quietly. He shifts up, and you end up sitting in his lap, his arms securing you against him gently. Your own rise up in your half-consciousness, draping around his neck. There’s a slight chuckle behind you. “ _Elle ne veut pas que nous allions_.”  _She doesn’t want us to go._

Another sound from Louis. “ _Je serai là_.”  _I’ll be here_.

Alyn’s lips find your temple, kissing lovingly, deeply, for several seconds. “Go to sleep, Sugar. We’ll be back soon.”

New arms slide around you, supporting your body, while your arms are unwound from Alyn’s neck. You’re lifted just a little, and then you feel Alyn disappear, another familiar body settling under you instead. Louis’ flowery scent envelops you as he embraces you against him, then lies back, settling you atop his chest just like you were with Alyn. Hands stroke your hair and cheeks, kisses dust over your face. There are footsteps before silence.

Louis sighs just a little, lips tracing and grazing over your closed eyelids, then your cheeks, before he breathes out, “ _Tu peux dormir. Je suis là, Angel_.”  _You can sleep. I’m here, Angel._

You don’t even last five seconds.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

When you wake up again, you finally feel rested, if a bit worn out mentally.

Your head is settled in the juncture of Louis’ shoulder and neck, his sweet smell still strong around you. Draped over his body, your arms are tucked around his throat, the warmth from him keeping them pleasantly heated. The cover has been tugged up, obscuring you both from the chest down. Hips aligned with his lower abdomen, your legs are settled snugly between his, but your ankles have tucked themselves under his own. Your hands are under you, against his chest. His slightly swift heartbeat flutters beautifully under your palms.

It’s heavenly. You’re warm, comfortable, safe and at peace.

Well, at least for a moment.

“Nico, you seriously suck at zombies. You’re supposed to run  _away_  from them, you know.” Sid drawls somewhere to your left, the sound accompanied by the familiar simulated gunshots from  _Call of Duty_. You recognise the zombies’ cries and screams, but also the grunting of the character when they’re hit. You hear it a lot.

“Shut up!” Nico whines. “There’s too many of them! I hate this map!”

Sid scoffs. “You’re pretty awful if you can’t even hold it together on this map, short-stack.”

“Hey, don’t call me that, lanky-legs!”

_Here we go again…_

Despite your inward sigh, a smile dances on your lips, threatening to curl them up against Louis’ collarbone.

“Sid, Nico.” Byron’s lower, much more controlled voice interrupts their bickering. “If you are going to argue like children and call each other names, either do it quietly, or stop it altogether. She’s still asleep.”

They both take the volume down a notch, grumbling under their breaths and muttering curses at each other snidely.

Louis’ hands, on your back, start to move, slipping under the vest you’re wearing. Your already warm skin heats further where he touches, a trail of embers flickering to life in your flesh under his fingertips. You shiver just slightly at the sensation of him grazing them over each of your vertebrae, making a gradual, controlled ascent up the ridges of your spine. His lips come to hover against your hair, and you can feel his smile when he laughs breathily.

“At least she seems to be sleeping peacefully, and devoid of any nightmares.” Giles sighs out, tone relieved. The boys make sounds of acknowledgements, and Louis murmurs into your hair,

“She’s so warm.” There are several laughs at that. Leo replies, voice adoring.

“When isn’t she? It’s a rare occasion when she’s not blushing, so she’s almost always an adorable, beautiful little ball of warmth.” You stifle a frown, albeit a disgruntled one. More laughs.

“Indeed.” Giles agrees. He pauses for a moment. “Although, we must be careful with how long we allow her to sleep. It’s nearing one o’clock, and we all went to bed at eleven, so she’s encroaching on having fourteen hours’ sleep.”

_Wow. No wonder I can’t move._

Louis shifts under you, dusting loving kisses across your temple and eyebrow. He cuddles you tighter, and one of your legs slips over his. He hesitates for a brief second, then hums low in his throat, bending one knee up just a bit so you end up with a leg on either side of it. “She needs it.” He counters softly. “She went through a lot yesterday.”

You almost sigh. You don’t want to remember it.

“True.” Giles agrees. You hear him chuckle. “She certainly looks comfortable. I’ll admit, I’m rather jealous right now.”

He’s not angry, though; that much you can tell. Several of the others make noises of agreement again, and Nico sighs out dramatically, “Me too. Cuddling her is the best thing ever. She’s so warm and cuddly and cute.”

Louis’ smile turns just a little smug.

You can’t stifle your giggle.

They all go silent, and you hear the game pause. Their eyes are on you, you feel, and Louis is now staring down at you. Giles speaks again. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I could have sworn I just heard her giggle.”

“There’s nothing to correct, buddy. She did.” Leo confirms. You bury your face in Louis’ shoulder, trying not to laugh. Sid groans.

“Oh, hell. Are we doing the whole thing that happened in Stein again? Where she pretends to be asleep and we can’t damn tell if she’s faking it or not?” He asks. You hear Nico snort, and then feel pressure near your feet; he must be sitting there.

“Probably. She’s a good actress when she wants to be. Is she awake, Louis?” He asks.

You force the smile off your face, remaining entirely still and seemingly unconscious, face safely obscured in his throat. Louis studies you for several seconds, and you deliberately slow your breathing, keeping it similar to how it would be if you were asleep.

“I’m not sure. I’m certain she giggled, but she looks like she’s asleep.” He answers, sounding rather vexed.

You expect one of the others to respond. When they don’t, you start to get suspicious, and more so when you feel Louis stiffen slightly. You can feel his head moving, as if he’s speaking, but there’s no sound. Your mind is awash with confusion.

All of a sudden, Louis’ head cranes down, lowering to your throat. You fight back the instinctual urge to tense with anticipation, and then hold back the breath that tries to escape you when he kisses your neck softly. One of his hands removes itself from under your vest, rising to the back of your head. He eases it to the side ever so slightly, just giving him the littlest bit more access to your throat. Your heart is beating harder and faster by this point, limbs flooding with heat, and this only worsens when he begins to suck on and lavish the sensitive flesh with kisses.

Somehow, you manage to keep yourself still and silent.

You have no hope, though, when his other hands starts to move.

It palms down your back, then over your ribs, creating a ticklish sensation in your side. You grit your teeth to silence yourself, then bite down on your tongue when he reaches your hip. He brushes his thumb over the bone, coaxing the waistband of your leggings down just enough to expose it. Pleasure wracks through you, and you almost grip his shirt with the intensity of it.

You think you’re coping, just about.

But then, the hand slips down to your thigh. His fingers very, very cautiously tease at the inner-back side.

_Nope. I can’t do this without moaning, kissing him or doing something I may or may not regret._

You give up.

Your hands jerk out from underneath you, diving in, aiming straight for his ribs.

You tickle them mercilessly, drawing a shocked, startled cry from him. He tries to push you off him, but you lock your leg around his, dropping your weight against him and prodding almost violently at his sides. Laughter bursts out of him, much to the others’ amazement, and they watch in equal shock as the cover is nudged back a bit, exposing your relentless attack on his ribs.

Leo whistles. “Ouch. That looks painful in a few different ways.”

Alyn smacks him upside the head. Sid grins from his place in one of the beanbags, practically singing, “Someone get the popcorn.”

Robert laughs heartily. “It seems she has extracted revenge. That  _was_  a rather cruel thing to do to her, though.”

Sid chuckles darkly, snickering, “But worth it. Look at Lou-Lou suffering at the princess’ hands.”

Byron arches an eyebrow at him. “I’m now ninety-nine percent certain you’re a sadist.”

He gets a smirk in response.

Louis sounds about ready to pass out from oxygen deprivation by this point, seeing as he’s been howling with torturous laughter this whole time. As such, you launch yourself off him after a few more moments, bouncing across to the other side of the bed. Hair and eyes wild, vest tugged up and exposing your stomach and lips set in a gorgeous grin, you take in the room.

Alyn, Leo and Sid are on the beanbags, Nico is at the end of the bed, and Albert, Byron, Robert and Giles are squished onto the sofa-bed together. Dressed in their casual clothes, they all stare at you incredulously, and with looks that say they’re, to some degree, turned on by your dishevelled state.

You dismiss that last bit before you transform into a tomato again.

Fixing your hair and vest, you heave in a much-needed breath, greeting, “Morning.”

Cue raised eyebrows, grins, smirks and smiles from them all.

Louis pants away, gasping for breath, before groaning quietly and rolling onto his side. Feeling to some extent guilty, you drop your hand atop his head, stoking it apologetically. “Sorry, Louis. To be fair, Robert’s right – that was a bit mean.”

He moans, deflecting, “Sid told me to do it.”

You send said male a withering look. “Why am I not surprised?” He just winks, smirking away. You roll your eyes. “So- ah!”

Before you can even attempt to speak, Louis’ arm shoots out, hooking around your waist and all but chucking you over him, then onto your back on his other side. His hands descend on your waist, tickling back just as much as you tickled him, and his head goes in for the kill at your throat. You scream with laughter, body convulsing underneath him with the sensation of his fingers on your ribs, and he shouts over them, “Sid! Leo! Nico!”

The three are up and lurching in before even a second passes.

Leo’s crimson eyes practically glow. “With pleasure.”

Sid’s smirk becomes sadistic. “I hear ya.”

Nico giggles, but it’s evil, almost unnerving. “Gladly.”

The three converge on you. Sid’s hands replace Louis’ on your waist, and his head dips to your stomach, teeth nipping at it remorselessly. Leo hands claim your right leg, fingers tickling at your thigh, while he holds your hips down and grazes his teeth over the bone on the right side. Finally, Nico does the same on your left side, but he’s tickling your foot as well. Louis restrains your hands, nibbling at your neck.

It’s chaotic, euphoric, and unbearably addictive.

You thrash about as much as you can, laughter pouring from your lips like tears are from your eyes. The touches are pleasant, but the tickling could drive you insane, and the mix of the two sensations is baffling. Four sets of teeth and hands on you all at once is overwhelming, and you’re burning, skin now melting and smouldering with intense heat.

“Stop! Stop, I surrender! Please! I’m sorry!” You howl desperately, screeching when Sid bites down on your rib.

“You four, be careful, please. Enough – she’s still coming down from shock. Release.” Giles sighs out the order, but he’s grinning away at your beautiful laughter, just like the others are.

The boys reluctantly do as he says, withdrawing from your panting, twitching form, all grinning away at the beaming smile on your face. You groan, holding your aching stomach now that you can move your arms, before you playfully kick Leo and Nico’s legs.

“Ow. My stomach hurts now. Bastards.” You shake your head, registering all of a sudden that you’re painfully hungry and that’s half the reason why you’re hurting. Your next words come out as a whined moan. “I’m so hungry. Oh my God.”

“Well, Princess, that’s probably because you haven’t eaten in roughly thirty hours.” Leo replies, voice almost teasing. Your head snaps up, and you level him with a baffled gaze. He grins, taking hold of your right foot and settling it in his lap, massaging your ankle. “The last time you ate was in the morning yesterday, which I’m guessing was around seven o’clock, right?” You nod. “Well, it’s one o’clock in the afternoon of the next day, now, so you’ve pretty much gone thirty hours without food or water.”

You blink. You don’t think you’ve ever gone that long without eating in your life.

“Which,” Byron picks up, standing. Albert does the same. “Is why we are going to get you something to eat and drink now. I suggest we all do, since even we, having been conscious when you were not, didn’t consume much throughout yesterday.”

Sid slides off the bed and onto his feet, grey coat swishing around him like smoke. “Hell yeah. I’m starving.”

With that, he saunters out of the room, sending a knowing look at Giles. Said Christophe inclines his head, then nods at the others, as they all move to their feet and make their way out. You start to get up instinctively to follow them, but he catches your arms as you do, gently sitting you back down. Gaze turning vexed, you tilt your head. “Giles?”

He chuckles, perching next to you on the bed while his hands drift down to yours. Kissing each knuckle briefly, he grins majestically, explaining, “You are to do nothing today. We have unanimously decided that you are to remain in bed and rest for the day, as you’re still recovering from shock.”

You open your mouth to object, but he clamps his hand over it before you can, sighing out, “Before you insist that you’re fine, or that you want to help, or anything along those lines, don’t even try. You need to relax, ___, and recover, and we are glad to be able to take care of you ourselves. Am I understood?”

You feel like a child being scolded. As such, you pout for a second into his palm, acting just like a child.

Your tongue pokes out, jabbing briefly at his palm.

Immediately, his eyes gain an almost wild, seductive glint, and a gorgeous, if slightly sadistic smirk graces his lips. “It seems you’re being quite rebellious today. I have no choice but to punish you, then.”

One hand flies down to your waist. The other releases your mouth, cupping the back of your head. Lips diving in for your cheek, he lightly pushes you back, sending you both tumbling back and onto the mattress.

His tongue reciprocates your action. He starts to lick at your cheek playfully, in a way that’s ticklish, and a quiet scream of delight escapes you. You squirm under him, laughing and giggling, hands batting at his chest. Draped over you, his body presses against yours, almost obscuring you completely. He howls with boyish laughter against your cheek mid-lick, then boops his tongue against the tip of your nose.

Even more violent giggles erupt from you, and he breaks down into hopeless, relentless laughter as well, dropping his face into your throat.

It takes a few seconds for you both to calm yourselves, and you shift while your laughter is dying down. Your legs curl in, tucked atop his thighs, while your arms reach up to wind around his neck. Your fingers seek out his hair, threading through it, and you nuzzle your face against his.

You need this. You haven’t hugged him like this in a good while. You miss it. You miss him.

He exhales deeply into your neck, sighing contentedly, before his arm curls around your waist. He cradles your head, thumb rubbing tenderly against your scalp. He’s so warm, touch ever so delicate and loving and nimble, just like he always is. He’s elegant and stunning, teasing yet controlled, tame yet wild. Your heart, if it hadn’t already been racing by this point, would be pounding away just from your thoughts.

His own heart is thundering away. You can feel it against your chest, and it sends your insides fluttering with joy.

Your eyes drift closed. You breathe in his unmistakeable, strong, airy scent, that hint of masculinity he always has giving you tingles in your stomach. You speak, voice a soft murmur against his cheek. “Are you okay?”

He hums, low in his throat, before he responds in an equally tender tone, “I believe I am the happiest man alive, Precious.”

Your mind floods with joy, cheeks flushing. You try to keep your beaming smile under control.

But then, he continues, admitting, “In all honesty, until you woke up this morning, I was terrified. I was absolutely mortified. I’d seen you stand in that hall, with the pressure of having to protect every student in there, only knives to protect yourself. I had absolute faith in your abilities, but I couldn’t stop myself from imagining. The what-ifs kept coming. I imagined you being overwhelmed. Being… being hurt- being, even-”

Warm moisture drips down your neck. You stiffen.

He’s crying.

He tightens his grip on your waist, his hold encroaching on painful. “Even being killed. And then when you were fading in and out, leaving us and coming back, it- I couldn’t think. It was killing me, seeing you trying so hard to stay with us. The whole time, I couldn’t leave you, not for a second. I was too afraid you’d slip away… and be unable to come back.”

He swallows hard. You can hear him straining to force the sobs back.

“Despite you crying and going into deeper shock when you woke last night, the relief was just- I could hardly stop myself from taking you from Robert. Seeing you like that… it was torture. I didn’t want to go in the morning, when you were given to Louis. We needed to move our pets and get them to Sid’s house, but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t want to leave your side, not at all. Just… just in case you-”

Instinctively, you hug him harder, embracing him against you. You hush him gently now, interrupting his dark train of thought.

“Giles,” You utter, kissing his cheek lovingly. “I’m safe. I’m here. I didn’t die, and I didn’t even get hurt. I’m fine, and so is everyone else. We’re all okay. It won’t happen again, I promise.” You stroke his hair, feeling him press his face against your collarbone. You smile just a little, whispering, “If you need to cry, you can. It’s human, Giles. You can cry to me.”

The man in your arms, who was laughing only seconds ago, breaks down.

He sobs, granted very quietly, into your shoulder, the sounds muffled by your skin. You whisper sweet nothings in his ear, stroking his hair, rubbing his back, kissing his face. You tell him over and over again that it’s okay, that everything’s fine now and it’s over. You can feel the intense emotion leaving him as he cries, what is no doubt at least months of stress and pent-up feelings escaping him.

You’re happy about that, though. You worry that the boys don’t cry enough.

But, you imagine, several if not all of them might end up doing the same soon, crying to you. Relief is often the emotion that sets the tears free, even when fear or rage or worry hasn’t. It’s usually relief that gets you.

He calms after a few minutes, taking several more to breathe deeply and slowly, settling himself once more. You don’t care that your neck is damp, or your pillow. You don’t give a damn. You’re just happy he’s gotten it all out of him.

You lift his head when he’s almost completely still, raising it above your own. His eyes are slightly red and swollen from crying, but that doesn’t matter. They’ve seen you in the exact same state many a time. You brush the moisture from his cheeks and eyes, smoothing your thumbs over the flesh with a featherlight touch. He leans into your hands, eyes drifting closed for just a few moments. You smile softly.

Once his face is dry, you take several heartbeats to just study him. Your eyes focus on his face, touching on his lips, dancing up to his long eyelashes, ghosting over his pale skin. He opens the stunning eyes he’s been hiding from you, watching you watch him with a marginally curious gaze. “___? What is it?”

Your fingertips trace over his cheekbone, then down his cheek, to his jaw. They map out the shape of it, tracing along to his chin, then up to his lips. The said anatomy curl into a little smile when your thumb settles atop his lower lip, gaze trained on them. You find yourself grinning, just a little, answering in an innocent, honest mumble, “You’re beautiful.”

His pupils expand, mouth popping open in blatant surprise. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting that.

You chuckle at his shocked expression, apologising sheepishly, “Sorry, that was probably a bit random. I just… you all tell me so much how beautiful or pretty or cute I am, but I never tell all of you that you’re the same. I really need to more often.”

He’s genuinely speechless. You find yourself stifling another laugh, watching emotion after emotion wash over his face like waves against sand.

But then, finally, he settles on one.

Exasperated, hopeless love.

“You really…” He breathes out, shaking his head slowly. “You really do have a heart of gold, ___. To think you would…” A smile finally graces his lips again, and he sighs softly. “Thank you. I’m flattered, albeit I have never been called beautiful before.”

You thought that might be the case. Your hand cups his cheek, holding it tenderly, settling against it lightly. “Well, you are. You’re beautiful, and handsome, and adorable at the same time. You’re elegant, majestic, graceful and calm and collected-”

His lips crash down against yours.

The intensity with which he kisses you takes your breath away. He’s fierce, almost desperate, pressing himself closer and closer to you. You’ve never seen him in such a way before, and while it’s surprising, it’s not unwelcome. You force him against you harder, fingers now gripping his hair, pleasure rolling through your limbs in waves at the passion in his touch.

He releases your waist, and you feel the mattress dip near your side. Glancing down very briefly, you see that his fingers are fisted in the cover, clutching at it so hard the blood has drained from his knuckles. Your insides clench, eyes shutting once more.

He suddenly pauses, wrenching himself away. Your eyes flutter open again. Flushed and red hues lidded with a lust you’ve never seen before, his expression gives way to a slight frown, voice husky and rough when he asks,

“You think I’m calm? Collected? Controlled, most likely?” He shudders above you, eyes almost swirling with disbelief. “Princess, when I’m with you, I’m always at my limits. I’m always desperate to have you in my arms, to kiss and touch you. You think far too highly of me – half of the time, I am restraining my much less gentlemanly self. I’m forever grasping at my self-control, even at times like this.”

This comes as a complete shock to you – you would never have even suspected he was doing that, at all, let alone a good portion of the time. You gaze up at him, eyes wide. You don’t want him to have to do that. “Why? Why would you hold back, at least at times like this?”

His face softens, expression becoming adoring. His hand cradles the side of your face, lips inches from your own. “Because, Precious, if I were to relinquish that self-control too much, I could hurt you. I could end up going too far and scaring you, and I would never forgive myself if I did that.”

You wonder whether he means what you think he means. You frown a bit. “Giles,” You lean up, pressing your forehead against his. “If you mean you would lose control in a way that leans more toward doing sexual things, then I can understand. But, otherwise, as long as you abide by the rules, you can’t do anything that would scare me. I don’t want you to hold back. I don’t want you to be careful with me, like you’re afraid of hurting me, because you won’t. The rules allow it. The others do it. You can, too.”

His gaze darkens, and he swallows again. His hand on the mattress shifts to your left thigh, and he cautiously eases it out from under him. Excitement bolts through you, insides churning with extreme pleasure, as he lowers himself down to be draped over you, now settled between your legs. Your breathing quickens, skin flooding with blood, but you don’t oppose the movement in the slightest. You can see him being practically dragged to that edge, to that point of just letting go and doing what he’s so desperate to do.

“Is that an order?” He whispers, brushing his lips over yours.

This time, you don’t hesitate. Damn your morals; if they want you to confirm that you’re okay with things like this by ordering them, you’ll do it. You’ll command them as often as they want you to, if it makes them happy and sure.

“Yes.” You breathe out, so tempted to just kiss him to hell and back. He quivers above you.

“Then order it. Deliver as a princess would, just like I taught you, and I will do as you ask.” His tone is almost challenging now, as he slips his hand up your thigh, fingers trailing around the back of it. Your back arches, body craning up and into his touch. Your voice is certain, unhesitant, authoritative and powerful, finality ringing in your command.

“As your princess, I order you to kiss me like you want to, without holding back. I want you to touch me without restraint. I want you to abide by the rules, but to do what you want to do until you reach that point. I command you to do this, Giles.”

You don’t receive his response in words.

Rather, you feel it, understand it clearly, in the consuming kiss that claims you a second later.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**25 th December 2016 | Christmas Day | Christmas Holidays, College Year 2**

It’s Christmas Day. Naturally, as always in your house, it’s chaos.

“___! Can you come and help me with the dinner?”

“You just asked me to set out the table!”

“… oh. Well, it can be done later! A table’s no good if there’s no food!”

You groan.

“Lucian! Get down here and help as well, please!”

“You just told me to bring the presents down!”

“The food is more important! So help me God, if you’re not here in five seconds-”

“I’m on my way, woman!”

“Xander, Tobias-”

“We’re coming! No threats needed!”

You, your dad and your brothers all pile into the kitchen, where your mum is practically flying around the room, trying to keep on top of everything going on. Wearing a frilly knee-length dress with, “Ho, ho, ho” written down the front, she sighs in relief when you all sprint in. “There you all are! Lucian, get on potatoes. Xander, Tobias, you’re both on vegetables. ___, get on the gravy – you know how to make it properly. I’ll get the mains ready.”

You all run to your stations immediately. You get the gravy ready, boiling some water and measuring out the grains. Your brothers start tackling vegetables and Lucian makes sure the potatoes don’t set on fire. Your mum produces the chicken most will be having, and the vegetarian version of beef wellington that she’s made for Xander and Tobias, they both having been vegetarian for roughly two years now.

The former gives your mum a marginally bemused look before then glancing at you. You’re stood in between him and Tobias, serving up carrots with precision and deft skill, waiting for the kettle to boil. “___.” He whispers. You look up at him, calm and curious, to which he blinks. “Is she… okay? She seems stressed.”

You wave a hand dismissively, not noticing Tobias’ bewildered look when he notices that it’s the hand you have a knife in; you just used it to pluck out a carrot and test it. “Oh, yeah, don’t worry about her. She’s like this every year, although she’s actually probably about forty percent calmer this year than previous ones. Usually it’s just me and her that do all of this, since she’s hellbent on the boys not having to cook. She says they’re still guests, so she doesn’t want them to, even though they’d really love to help.”

Tobias sends your mum an almost wary look, while Xander pales slightly. Tobias mutters under his breath. “You used to do this on your own? Like, you used to help with all of this by yourself? Christ…”

Xander shakes his head. “We didn’t arrive a moment too soon.”

You smirk, munching on another carrot. “Now you understand why I am the way I am. My mother is mental resilience training in a chaotic, to some degree unstable ball of stress.” The kettle finishes boiling, and you go over to it, starting to make the gravy. You can hear your mum mumbling to herself, whizzing about madly. A soft, quiet sigh leaves you. “If she’s acting insane, she’s fine. If she goes calm during a time of panic, that’s when you should worry and be afraid.”

Xander nods slowly, working with Tobias as if they’re one person, pouring out water and plating or bowling up vegetables like they’re still attached to one another. “Right.” He sends you a small smile. “You look stunning, by the way. I forgot to say it, with the casual chaos going on.”

You beam, relieved to know you look nice. “Thanks. You look beautiful yourself.” Your eyes touch on Tobias briefly, and you smirk again, winking at him when he looks at you. “You do too.”

Xander is wearing a white shirt with an electric blue tie, and then a pale blue jacket with black skinny jeans and his usual converse. Tobias just has a black shirt on, with a matching tie, and skinny jeans as well, but he has his combat boots on. His shirt is also unbuttoned just a bit at the collar. Lucian is in a simple black shirt with black jeans and smart shoes.

You, on the other hand, are in a dress. It’s wine red and lacy, coming to your mid-thighs, the lace making a snowflake pattern all over you. It comes in at the waist, complementing your figure, and the sleeves give it a very wintery look. It comes across straight at the top, though, so that it starts by cutting across your chest, the outside of your shoulders holding it up. It also has little ends on the sleeves, which go around your middle finger, holding the pointed end of the sleeve flat against your palm and the top of your hand.

You don’t have your shoes on, they being thigh-high black boots, flat and pleasantly warm when you wear them. Instead, you’re currently barefoot; it’s a habit of yours, one you’ve always had since you were little. You’re wearing your group ring on your thumb as always, and then your necklace that you have with your star sign’s constellation. Your hair is done up how you like it for dressing up, although it’s not too extravagant.

Tobias scowls at your words, cheeks turning pink impressively quick. He glares down at the Brussel sprouts he’s dishing up, grumbling, “Yeah, thanks. You look beautiful too.”

You chuckle at his very Alyn-like response, stirring the gravy and singing out, “Aw, so you are capable of compliments under all those insults. That’s nice.”

“Shut it.” You snort, finishing the gravy and covering it over. You turn to your mum.

“Mum, gravy’s ready. Should I go and finish setting the table up?” You ask. She nods, waving her hands from her place with the chicken and wellington in dismissive agreement. You just laugh, finger-waving at the remaining males in the room. “Enjoy, and good luck, you lot! Don’t screw anything up, or she’ll have your head and serve it instead of the chicken.”

She doesn’t deny it, too busy with the food, and Xander’s expression turns to one of mortification. You howl with laughter, bouncing out of the room.

You head back into the dining room, where there’s the long dining table. After realising several months ago that, if your boys are in the house as well, there’s fourteen people in the house, your mum took the opportunity to get a new dining table, one that matches the dining room’s white and black colour scheme as opposed to the wooden one you used to have. This one has six seats on the long side and is wide, allowing another two people on each end, and so holds sixteen people.

You told her you’d pay for it, since it’s your fault there’s so many people to cater for, but she insisted that she appreciated the opportunity to finally have a completely colour-schemed house. You ended up tried to give her the money for four weeks straight before you gave up.

You were worried about how your new brothers would feel about this, as well.

You see, for the past four years, the boys have all been coming to your house, at some point and then eventually for the whole day, for Christmas.

After all, your Christmases prior to that were rather lonely, uneventful and not particularly satisfying. It was just you, your mum and dad, so having the boys there made it feel like the family was much bigger, not just for you but everyone involved; your mum adored, and still does adore, despite her stress, cooking for more people and having more people to buy presents for. Your dad loved the feeling of having sons and enjoyed the boys’ company immensely, probably partially since he was the only man in the house.

After your dad died, this only became vital, since you’d lost a third of the household that would be present, and without the boys, it would just be the two of you. As such, your mum insisted that the boys come, or at least that you invited them, every year, along with Sid’s dad. He would usually be busy at the embassy, though, so he’s only ever come twice.

Doing this was also a huge relief for the boys.

For Albert, Byron and Nico, who had never celebrated Christmas properly because of either their father, or because of them being busy, it was an opportunity to experience it for the first time. More importantly, it was a chance for them to feel what Christmas is with other family than just themselves.

For Alyn and Leo, it became irreplaceable. With their parents dying so young, and then their uncle being sent to prison for his involvement in their deaths only a few years later, they’d spent most of their lives celebrating Christmas very little if at all. With you and your mum, along with the guys, it gave them a family to celebrate it with.

This goes for Giles as well, whose family disowned him, leaving him on his own under the care of the academy. He had no one at all, so coming together became everything to him.

Robert was the same, except that, of course, his family were killed when Bergenia fell, and he had no one else to stay with or rely on. He came to cherish the celebration just as much, because even when his parents were alive, they hardly had the time to celebrate it very much.

As for Louis, Christmas was unbearable for him until he started to come to your house. When he was at home for it, he’d often be forced to go to his father’s soirées or the nobility’s incessant parties, where he’d endure hours of judgemental people just looking for a reason to cause him pain and discomfort. Your house became his escape, a safe sanctuary away from the criticisms of the others in his class.

Finally, Sid would often be on his own for Christmas, even with the Archduke Grandier. The latter is rarely not busy, so he often couldn’t take the day off, nor New Year’s Day. As such, Sid was usually alone on Christmas.

Despite all of this, you felt bad for Xander and Tobias. You imagined they were probably excited to have their first Christmas with their new family, meaning with you and your mum.

Not with you, your mum and your nine boyfriends.

However, when you confronted them about it in early December, they said they weren’t particularly bothered about it. After all, they said, their Christmases have been quite quiet and uneventful over the years, they only having Lucian with them. They said it would be strange, but that the boys are your family and have been so important to you and your mum for a long time now, meaning that it would be unfair to expect that to stop for their sake.

Plus, Tobias really loves Byron and Sid’s cars, gets on not-very-shockingly well with Alyn and Albert, and Xander adores talking to Leo, Giles, Byron, Robert and Louis about things like news and politics.

You shake your head, a silly little grin tugging at your lips. Setting out all fourteen plates, you also put down the markers indicating where everyone sits. There’s a reason for this.

Sid and Louis cannot sit next to or across from each other, if one doesn’t want Sid to antagonise Louis and or steal his food for a laugh. Leo and Alyn are the same, but more so that Alyn doesn’t commit homicide at the table. Albert and Nico cannot either, and Byron must be either next to Albert to prevent him from throttling Nico, or must be sat between them to stop Nico from attempting any of this. Alyn and Albert also cannot be next to one another, so as to prevent them from stabbing each other mid-meal.

So, here’s how it’s going to go.

Your mum and Lucian will be at one end of the table at the head, while Xander and Tobias will be at the other end. On one side, to Lucian’s left and Tobias’ right, in order from closest and then furthest from Lucian, will be Nico, Byron, Albert, Robert and Giles. Then, opposite them respectively will be Alyn, Louis, yourself, Leo and Sid.

Satisfied, you set out the decorations, like the crackers and wind-up Father Christmas toys, then fix the chairs up. You’re just about done with this when there’s a knock at the door. You glance up at the clock.

Four on the dot.

Your insides flutter pleasantly, mind whirling with joy, at the thought of seeing them. You bounce out of the dining room, calling, “I’ll get it!”

You bound to the front door, swinging it open. The boys are all there, dressed in rather different clothing to their normal attire, several with bags held at their sides or over their bodies.

Byron, Albert, Robert, and Giles have opted for shirts with ties, then jackets, the ties their favourite colours. Byron’s shirt is black, Albert’s brown, Robert’s white and Giles’ a pale lilac. Louis is similarly dressed, but with a black vest as well.

Leo is wearing a red jacket over a white shirt that has “#Squad” written on it, Alyn has a black leather jacket on, obscuring whatever top he has on underneath, Sid has his blue buckle-up shirt on with his thicker, midnight blue coat, and Nico has on a cream jumper. All of them are wearing black skinny jeans, but their shoes differ; Leo and Nico are in converse, Byron, Giles, Robert and Albert have gone for smart shoes, Louis has on black knee-high boots, Sid has his chained knee-high boots, and Alyn has combat boots on.

They’re stunning.

_Wow. They just don’t have a moment of not being beautiful._

You beam at them, stepping back and greeting, “Merry Christmas! You’re all looking very handsome.”

Leo worms through the group to skip over to you, then lock his arms around your waist and lift you into his arms. Laughing delightedly, hands on his shoulders and his face buried in your stomach, you let him spin you around, his arms shifting to sit around your thighs snugly. “And you’re looking as criminally beautiful as always, Princess.” He puts you down, pecking your forehead gently. “Merry Christmas, Baby.”

Before you can respond, another pair of arms snake around your middle, tightening and sweeping you around in wide, arcing circles. Nico’s familiar giggles sound next to your ear, and you giggle with him while he smooches your cheek, chirping, “Merry Christmas, Sweetie! You look adorably beautiful, even more than normal!”

Again, you attempt to thank him, but he all but throws you over to Sid before you can. You scream, landing in his arms safely, before he scoops you up princess style and twirls around with you. There’s an impish glint in his eyes as he presses his forehead against yours, murmuring huskily, “Merry Christmas, Love. You look sexy as hell in that dress, but I bet you’d look inhumanly sexy with it off.”

“Sid!” You manage to cry out his name, cheeks flooding with blood. He howls with laughter, and it’s at this point that he stops.

You’re swiftly taken from him, settled into a new pair of arms. Giles’ red eyes gaze down at you tenderly, and he sighs, shaking his head. “Sid, control yourself.” Kissing your forehead softly, he lets his lips hover there for a moment, breathing, “Merry Christmas, my Precious Princess ___.”

Your heart skips a beat or two at the extended title. He sets you down, and Robert swoops in, slipping his arms around your waist. He tugs you into his chest, embracing you lovingly, before he rubs his nose against yours in a sweet eskimo kiss. “Hello, ___. Merry Christmas, Treasure. You look absolutely breath-taking.” He grins, taking another second to cup your face and kiss your forehead. “I should paint you and immortalise your beauty.”

Before you can die from high blood pressure, you’re spun around, into a warm, solid chest. You’re hugged against them gently but firmly, and lips press against the crown of your head, kissing tenderly. Byron speaks lowly, adoringly, murmuring, “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart. I agree with the others – you’re stunning.”

You grin, eyes sparkling. You’re still in Byron’s arms when a hand settles atop your head, ruffling your hair very lightly. You glance up, met with Albert’s soft gaze and smile. “Indeed. Merry Christmas, Darling.” Byron lets you go, and you throw your arms around Albert, hugging his middle tightly. He sighs just slightly, but it’s loving, and he returns it after a moment.

When you pull back, your hands are taken and you’re turned around. Louis stands there, smiling beatifically, and he closes his eyes as he kisses each of your knuckles. “Merry Christmas, Angel. You truly look so beautiful.” Coaxing your hands up and around his neck, he hugs your middle tightly, briefly nuzzling his face in your neck.

And last but not in the slightest least is Alyn. Once Louis releases you, the former picks you up and lifts you into the air, so that you’re suspended above him. He lowers you down, allowing him to kiss your cheek and whisper, “Merry Christmas, Pookie. You look gorgeous, seriously.”

You giggle at the nickname, not failing to notice his blush.

He puts you down, and you look around them all, flushed yourself from the attention. “Thank you very much. Are we ready for another chaotic Christmas?”

The determined, amused or apprehensive nods you get make you laugh. You make your way through them, touching each of their arms lightly on the way past. “Come on. You guys aren’t allowed to help – boss’ orders. You’re in the living room for now.”

You take them inside, where they start to make themselves comfortable. The Christmas tree is up, large and decorated gorgeously with tinsel, baubles and figurines like angels. More tinsel adorns the walls, the mantelpiece of the fireplace and the top of the TV, while the blinds a are completely open, letting the pale winter sun stream into the room.

Albert and Byron take the four-seater couch, leaving room for Xander and Tobias if they come in, while Giles sits on the three-seater one, Robert sits in the circle chair, and the rest of them now take up the remaining beanbags; you bought a few more the other week, to cater for them all.

“Right,” You sigh out, hands on your hips, stood near the door. “I’m going to make sure mum doesn’t murder the others. You know the drill – get some music on, pick a game and start drooling because the food’s nearly ready.”

There are affirming laughs and nods at that. You bounce out with a little wave, padding into the kitchen.

“The boys are here.” You tell your mum.

Most of the food has been plated up now and is ready to be taken in. She nods, beginning to fire out orders like an army general. “Good. ___, start taking the mains in. Xander, Tobias, follow with the sides. Lucian, you go after with the vegetables. Remember what I taught you, boys; set out the food from the inside out on the table, symmetrical, and with utensils or tools. If you get stuck, ask ___. Go!”

You snort at the slightly fearful looks on your dad and brothers’ faces, heading for the chicken and vegetarian wellington. You manage to balance them both in your arms, instructing, “Look alive, you lot! Come on, move it.”

They scramble to do as they’ve been asked. You make your way into the dining room, setting the mains down how your mum likes them. The twins come in with the sides, and you help them to space them out properly, following with Lucian and his vegetables. They seem taken aback by the almost military precision with which you organise the table. In minutes, it’s ready, up to your standards.

Meaning, your mum’s standards.

“It’s done, mum!” You call to her through the house. You can practically feel the relief from her when she shouts back,

“Thank you! I’ll be in now – can you come here and help with drinks?” You chuckle, nudging past Xander and Tobias to return to the kitchen. There, your mum has filled a pitcher with water, has a variety of juice drinks out, and has brought out the many glasses and cups you have, spread out on the island in a sort of organised manner.

There’s also several bottles; Hennessey brandy, Smirnoff vodka, and Banyuls wine. Your eyebrows arch up.

“Alcohol? Are you and Lucian having a wild day since it’s Christmas?” You ask, going over to the cupboard and retrieving the trays for carrying drinks. She hums, taking a moment to breathe.

“Anyone can have them, but only one drink per person. I don’t like drunk people.” She watches you set the alcohol on one tray, then the glasses on another, before you put the soft drinks on a third tray. She grins. “What are you going to have?”

You shake your head, mind already made up. “Nothing.”

She blinks, giving you a baffled look. “What? Why not?”

You shrug, milling about to retrieve bottle openers and the notepad on the fridge, with a pen attached. “I don’t need to drink. I tried it that one time and I didn’t really like the sensation anyway, but I have no reason to. I want to enjoy the day without being influenced by the ethanol I’ve drunk.”

She sighs. “___, you’re too responsible. Most kids your age would be praying for a chance at drinking without having to do it off the radar.”

You just smile. “Think about it.” You send her an amused glance, picking up the tray of alcohol. “I’m not exactly like other kids.”

With that, you very carefully take the tray through into the dining room, setting it down on the cupboard against the wall, behind where Alyn, Louis, you, Leo and Sid will sit. You make another two trips, bringing the other trays in, while Xander, Tobias and Lucian head into the living room and your mum finishes things up in the kitchen. When you’re done, you wander back into the living room, the notepad in hand.

“Mum!” You call through the doorframe. “Can they go in now? It’s ready!”

“Yep!” She hollers back. You give them all a grin.

“Come on. Food time.”

They all practically leap up, following you into the dining room. You gesture to the table, ordering, “Sit where your names are. We are not having murder after all the effort we’ve put into this.”

While they navigate to their seats and start settling, you stand back, near the drinks. When they’re all sat down and your mum comes in, sitting as well, you flip the notepad open, starting your rounds. “Okay, I’m going to point at everyone. When I do, tell me what drinks you want – we’ve got juices, water, obviously things like tea, coffee or hot chocolate if you want those, and also some alcohol. However, according to mum, it’s one alcoholic drink per person, no more.”

You cast a warning look at Sid, who just grins. You smirk just a little in response, pointing to Lucian. “Go.”

“I’ll have the wine, please.” You chuckle darkly, nodding. You take the bottle from the table, handing it to your mum, along with the cloth you brought in for it.

“You’ll have to open it. I don’t trust myself nearly enough to do it.” She nods, pointing it away from everyone and starting to open it. You move your gaze to Albert. “Albert?”

He clears his throat. “I can make it myself; I’d like tea, thank you.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I can do it.” You jot down the drinks so far, gesturing to Byron. “Byron?”

“The wine, please.” You nod. Nico speaks next.

“Could I have some vodka and cranberry juice, please?” You hum. Giles answers now.

“Tea, please.” You nod again, eyes on the notepad, noting it all down.

“I’d like the wine as well please, ___.” Robert requests.

You give him a smile, eyes drifting to Tobias. “Brandy, please.”

You find yourself laughing at that; he’s just like Sid. Xander beams at you. “Cranberry juice, please.”

You beam back at him, plonking a hand on Sid’s head. “Let me guess. Brandy?”

He smirks. “You know me too well.”

You roll your eyes, leaning on the backs of Leo’s chair and your own after writing the drinks down. “What about you, mister?”

Across the table to the left, Alyn scowls at Leo. “Brandy cake.”

Leo smacks a palm against his face. “Oh, for the love of God! Let it go, will you? It was strong!” There’s a rumble of laughter, and he tips his head back, dropping it on your forearm. “Can I have vodka and cranberry juice, please?”

You give his cheek a gentle pat. “Of course, you can.” You slide over to Louis’ chair, writing the orders and leaning over his chair. “Louis?”

“Tea, please.” You nod, glancing at Alyn.

“Brandy, please. Thanks.” You grin, finally looking to your mum, now having finished with the wine bottle. She hands it to you with a grateful smile.

“Thanks. I’ll have hot chocolate, please.” You jot the last ones down, nodding to yourself once more and mentally organising the orders.

“Okay. I’ll do the soft and alcoholic drinks first, and then the hot ones.” You wave a hand, chucking the notepad onto one of the trays. “You may as well all start serving yourselves – it’s going to be a few minutes before drinks are done, so just go for it, if the boss will allow it.”

You cast your mum a marginally dry sideward look. She grins, nodding. “Of course! Everyone get started, then.”

Xander speaks to you, even though your back is to him. “Are you sure you don’t want help, ___?”

You shake your head. Your mum answers for you, sighing out, “Honestly, you’re better off leaving her to it. She’s quite frighteningly efficient with this, and does the drinks every year. She knows exactly how to do everyone’s perfectly.”

You smirk. You briefly pop into the kitchen and put the kettle on, then make your way back in and look over the notepad.

Three wines, three teas, three brandy, two cranberry vodkas, cranberry on its own, a hot chocolate, and whatever you’re having. You can do that.

Retrieving the relevant wine glasses, tumblers and normal glasses, you put ice in the normal glasses since Leo and Nico like it. Then, you pour out the wine first, followed by the brandy. You start to set them down on the placemats of those who wanted them, then return to the side to make the cranberry vodkas. You can feel the boys’ eyes on your back, just like every year, but it doesn’t bother you.

You know what you’re doing, and are feeling far too smug and proud from your mum’s praise to even be able to feel pressured.

Once the vodkas are done, you give them to Leo and Nico, popping the wine back into the bucket of ice in case anyone else wants any later on. Capping the other bottles, you head into the kitchen and make quick work of the teas, already knowing how the three who want it like it made. You do the hot chocolate at the same time, finding the last tray and putting the cups on them when you’re done.

Taking the tray inside, you put the cups down, doing a little circle around the table before setting the tray on the side. You call to Siri on your mum’s phone, telling him to play the Christmas playlist from the speakers on either side of the cupboard. Turning down the volume, and with your own drink made as well, you finally sit down.

It’s a strange feeling, sitting around the table with a dad, brothers, your mum and the boys that used to be your best friends, but are now your boyfriends. A silly little grin slips onto your lips as you get the food that you want, ignoring Sid’s laughed remark about you stretching across the table because you’re short.

Finally, you’re done and everyone’s ready to start. Your mum stands up, and you immediately groan. “No…” Xander and Tobias blink, confused. You shake your head at them, mouthing, “Whether you’re religious or not, start praying.”

Their pupils expand in sync.

“Okay! So, Lucian, Xander and Tobias aren’t used to this, and ___ is probably going to despise my existence for it, but I don’t care. Speech and toast time!” She lifts her hot chocolate, making the already ridiculous action even more unbelievable. You twine your fingers together, dropping your mouth against them and closing your eyes. She grins.

“Yep! I was right, but I’m doing this anyway because I do it every year. So, I have quite a bit to say this time. I prefer to do this on Christmas as opposed to New Year, since I know for certain we’re all here on Christmas.”

A heavy sigh escapes you.

“A lot has happened this year, and I mean, a lot. At least in this house, everything has changed. In the course of just the last half of the year, I’ve finally been able to tell all of you about Lucian and myself, and have gotten officially engaged despite it being so hard because I’m still healing from you know what.”

Your mouth twists. You take a sip of your drink.

“In doing that, a person who’s been there for me and ___ for years has now become an irreplaceable part of my life, and the only person I could ever imagine spending the rest of that life with. So, Lucian, I want to thank you first. Thank you, for everything you’ve done for us over the years, for protecting and supporting us in all the different ways you have. I love you.”

Lucian smiles softly, taking her hand and kissing it softly. “Thank you, for mending the hole in my heart that I’ve had, and for forgiving me. I love you.”

_Ugh, God. It’s cute, but at the same time, I want to curl in on myself and turn into a dust speck._

She beams at him. “There was nothing to forgive.” She turns to her stepsons. “As for Xander and Tobias,” The two gaze up at her, seeming marginally concerned now. You don’t blame them in the slightest. “You’ve both given me the honour of having the experience of having sons. Well, at least full-time ones, since this lot are basically part-time ones.”

You moan quietly. That’s just awkward, considering the whole polyamorous relationship, when coupled with the marriage-be-not-a-possibility thing.

“So, thank you for that. I love that you’re a part of our family now, and I’d like to thank you for accepting our weird ways so readily and openly. I love you both very much as well.”

Xander laughs softly, cheeks slightly flushed. “Thank you, for welcoming us into your family and your home. I love you too.”

Tobias’ cheeks are burning. He sinks into his chair, much to your silent amusement, muttering, “Yeah, same. Love you too.”

She chuckles, swapping her hot chocolate to the other hand. You imagine it was burning her fingers. “Now, for the part-time sons!”

“Mum!” You cry into your hands. “Please, for the love of all that’s holy, stop referring to them as that! It makes it sound like they’re my brothers!”

The boys howl with boyish laugher at your embarrassment. Your mum giggles.

“Sorry, sorry. The rest of you, I would like to thank as well. You’ve gotten ___ through a lot this year and have supported her regardless of what’s happened, and I’m so, so grateful for that. You’ve saved her life, you’ve kept her sane, you’ve cherished her and you’ve loved her. You’ve overcome the biggest, hardest problem you’ve had to face with her and come out of the other side stronger, happier and even more whole than before. You finally damn confessed, after years of me screaming in the background to get on with it!”

More laughing. You shake your head, face buried in your hand. Leo’s hand comes down on your back, rubbing soothingly, while Louis takes your other one gently. Your mum continues. “So, for that, I’m eternally grateful. If anything had happened to her that she couldn’t bounce back from, I don’t know what I would have done. I owe you all so, so much, and love you all so much as a result. You are all my family, and you always will be.”

You bite your lip.

_Don’t say anything about me. Don’t do it, woman. Don’t you dare-_

“And, last but not least, my wonderful, incredible, impossible daughter.”

_Damn it._

Your head snaps up, and you send her a borderline offended stare. “Impossible? Thanks for that!”

She erupts into loud, boisterous laughter, crying out, “I meant because you’re so amazing, ___, you shouldn’t be possible. It wasn’t an insult.”

Cheeks burning from the attention, you shake your head, pressing your lips together. Your eyes remain on her now, though, and she watches you in return while she finishes.

“You’ve experienced so much, not just this year but throughout your life. You’ve done so much, achieved so much, and it’s astounding to think about all of the milestones you’ve reached. From the way you are in school to with the boys, and then with me and dealing with the changes in the house, you’re so strong. That strength is what’s gotten me through the hardships we’ve had this year, and it’s your happiness in the past few months that’s kept me from going mad with stress. Thank you for that.”

Her tone slows and softens, eyes glazing just slightly.

_Don’t cry. Please don’t start crying._

“But you’ve also done something else, ___, by being who you are. It’s your connection with Lucian that’s kept him close to us both over the years, and is the reason why he’s now the man I love with all my heart. It’s you who’s as such given me that, as well as Xander and Tobias, and it’s you who’s brought the wonder of your boys into my life as well. I don’t know what I’d do without them. So, you’ve essentially given me a new life and a new start, but…”

She reaches over, cupping your face and kissing your forehead, breathing through tears to declare,

“But you’re also the link between my old life and my new one. You prevent me from forgetting everything I’ve learnt since the day you were born, and remind me of when your father was alive, something that will never, ever be something I don’t treasure. So, thank you, so much. Thank you for staying strong for both of us over the years, for getting me through the hard times, and for doing that while staying true to who you are. I love you so, so, so much, ___.”

_Ah, hell. I can’t stay stone-faced when she’s about to cry._

“Geez. Come here.” You stand up, moving around to her side to hug her tightly. She embraces you, hot chocolate on the table now, and you murmur into her shoulder, “Thank you, for accepting me. I love you too, mum, so much.”

You turn your head, looking around at the faces of the people at the table. Your father, your brothers, and your boyfriends. “Thank you as well, all of you. You’ve all accepted and welcomed what I am when it’s something so many would hate or run from, but you’ve done nothing but let me in despite that. You’ve all given me family and more happiness than I ever thought possible, and so I’m grateful as well, to all of you. Thank you so, so much.”

You release your mum now, sitting down again. You roll your eyes with a small grin, eyeing Lucian. “And also,” Your eyes drift around your boys. “Thanks for the several times that you’ve saved my life. I haven’t forgotten that. I love all of you with everything that I am.”

Louis kisses your knuckle, murmuring softly, “You saved our lives, in so many ways, more times than we can count. Thank you, ___.”

Leo does the same on the other side. “Just as much as we’ve accepted you, you’ve accepted us. You’ve never pushed us away or given up on us, and you’ve given us family as well. Thank you.” He winks. “I don’t think the other eight will mind if I speak for us all. We love you, ___. We love you and we want to stay with you forever, through the good times and the bad, and we want to do that with your family, who we’ve come to love as well.”

You could melt right there and then. Your lips are graced by a beaming smile. “Then we’ve all given and received, and accepted and been accepted. I want that too.”

He nods, expression almost serene. “Then let’s do that. Let’s all work toward creating a forever that all of us want.” You’re about to respond, but Alyn beats you to it.

“I think that’s the first time in my life that Leo’s said something I don’t disagree with.”

The room fills with laughter, for the first time, from every single person in your family. You all lift your drinks when your mum does, touching them together in the middle of the table. “Then a toast, to our new family, and to the future that we’ll make for ourselves! To us!”

“To us!”

It’s euphoria. You’re finally where you want to be. You have your parents, your brothers, and your boyfriends.

No, not your boyfriends, you decide. That’s not the right word for them.

You have your soulmates.

“And now, food!” Your mum cheers.

Your life is finally whole.

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	11. Part XI | Resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**31st December 2016 | New Year’s Eve | Christmas Holidays, College Year 2**

Six days later, it’s New Year’s Eve, and Sid’s got a plan.

With your mum, Lucian, Xander and Tobias at a loss as to what to do for the annual switchover, the Arnault came forward, announcing that he had a perfect place to spend the evening, with a view of the heart of Wysteria and the palace. Apparently, you’ll all be able to see the countdown that’s displayed on the clock tower of the palace, and the celebrations going on down in the town square, from where he’s taking you all.

None of you know where, of course. He’s keeping it well under wraps.

“Sid, where are we going?” You whine out, staring out of the window of his car. It’s quarter to eleven at night, and you’re all driving into town, with Sid leading this time. He drives toward a less well-known part of the city centre, one that’s marginally quieter, despite the incessant traffic and clusters of people swarming the streets for the new year. He cusses under his breath at a drunk man stumbling out in front of him, braking hard, before he pulls around the corner and into an even more isolated section. “Stop being so mysterious.”

He smirks, eyes glinting with the lights of the city around you. “I ain’t tellin’ ya, Love. You’ll see when we get there.”

You groan, eyes drifting to the rear-view mirror. Leo, Alyn, Louis and Giles meet your gaze, giving you sympathetic or frustrated looks, the latter being only Alyn. You pout playfully, which makes Leo and Giles laugh, before you stop and look out the window once more.

Sid pulls into a car park, probably the only one in Wysteria that’s only half full. It’s outside a tall building, modern and white, and one that you see is most definitely a restaurant of some sort. “Sid?” You mumble, dubious. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yep.” He parks, then climbs out as the others pull in and do the same next to him. You get out as well, wrapping your coat around you tighter when the chilly winter wind nips at your skin. Sid wanders around to you, tucking you under his arm and against his side, hand rubbing at your waist gently. “Just wait and see.”

The others, meaning your parents, brothers and the rest of the boys, all come over, standing around you and Sid. He turns around, bringing you with him, toward the building. “Come on. Just trust me.”

He opens the door and heads inside. The colour scheme is white and black with accents of silver and gold, open and light, very much contemporary and simply luxurious. The lower floor is a restaurant for definite, people sat around eating even at this time of night.

A waiter approaches you all when you come in, dressed formally and smiling brightly, surveying the large group. “Welcome. Do you have a reservation?”

Sid nods, producing a piece of paper from his pocket. “Yeah. We’re VIPs of Andre’s.”

_VIPs?_

You stare up at Sid, shocked by the title. The waiter blinks, taking the paper and reading it closely. After a few seconds, he straightens up, then bows respectfully. “Of course. My apologies, Your Grace.”

You stiffen, eyes wide.

_Seriously? Has he used Lloyd Grandier for once, instead of his real name?_

The waiter inclines his head toward you, seeming to have noticed Sid’s hand resting against your hip. “Would this be Her Grace, Sir?”

_He thinks I’m Sid’s wife. That would be my title if I was married to “Lloyd Grandier”._

Your skin erupts in a fierce blush. Sid just shakes his head coolly, thumb massaging calming circles into your side. “No, she’s just a close friend of mine. Although, referring to her as such wouldn’t be unwelcome.” He winks, taking no notice of your furious blush and slightly mortified expression. “I guess ‘Miss’ will do, for now.”

The waiter nods. “Of course, Sir. If you will all follow me.”

He sets off toward what you can see are lifts at the end of the hall, just as extravagant as the rest of the restaurant. You all but bury your face in Sid’s side while you walk after him, burning with embarrassment and mild panic at his suggestive words. He just chuckles darkly, keeping you close.

You all pile into the lift with the waiter, and he presses the button for what you see is the sixth floor. It’s cramped inside, and you end up practically crushed against Sid’s side while Leo and Alyn are at your back, the warmth from all of them nearly overwhelming you.

Thankfully, you all step out once the doors open.

The sixth floor is almost like a very fancy pub, with a bar, tables all around the place. Still keeping to the modern theme, everything is still white, but there are more black accents around now, on the tables, chairs, bar and curtains. It’s not as crowded as downstairs, but there’s still only a few seats available, dotted around the room sporadically.

The bartender, a man of average size and probably in his mid-twenties, glances over at your arrival. With slightly curled chocolate hair and eyes such a dark brown they’re nearly black, his deeply golden skin gives him a very exotic, tropical appearance, definitely hailing from a country closer with warmer temperatures than the likes of Wysteria and Stein. Dressed smartly in white shirt, vest and black trousers, he pours out a beer, handing it to the man on the other side of the bar without looking away from you all.

Those dark eyes settle on you, studying intensely, almost burning through you. Just as you’re starting to feel uncomfortable and shift into Sid a bit more, he looks to the said man. His expression flattens.

“Ah, so you finally showed up, Arnault.”

_Arnault? Why does he know Sid’s real name if he’s used his alias to get in here?_

Sid smirks even more, walking over to the bar, coaxing you to come with him. “Yep. But you owe me the place for the entire day and night, so it wouldn’t have mattered even if I showed up at six in the morning.” The man scowls. Sid’s smirk stretches into a grin. “C’mon, Andre. We’re here, and we ain’t sticking around while everyone in here gets wasted.”

_Ah. This is Andre, then._

Andre rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He swipes a pair of keys from inside the bar, stepping out from it and calling, “I’ll be back in a minute! There’s CCTV – don’t even attempt to steal anything!”

He stalks past you all to the side of the room, where there’s a door with a velvet rope draped crossing in front of it, locked at one end to a hook in the wall. He unlocks it, then opens the door, revealing a set of stairs. “Come. I don’t want to have to wrestle people away from the dispensers.”

You notice that he has a faded accent, a little lilt to his voice that definitely sounds like it’s from somewhere far away. You’re almost certain it’s Spanish.

You all follow him up, emerging in a new, completely empty room.

This one’s walls are entirely made of glass. There are luxurious white couches strewn about, along with love seats, beanbags, armchairs and chaise lounges. Coffee tables are set out, adorned with glasses, cups and trays for drinks, as well as cutlery for food. Everything has been decorated beautifully for Christmas, with tinsel strewn about the room and snowflake stickers stuck to the windows. There’s a TV mounted on the wall in front of three large couches.

There’s also a set of glass doors, leading out to the balcony.

From it, you can see all of Wysteria’s city centre, lit up and alive around you. The height of the building gives you a perfect view of the palace, lit up with holograms and displays, getting ready for the firework show that’ll happen at midnight. The town square is also visible from here, and you can see people dancing through it, music booming down from it. There’s also music playing through speakers in the room.

“Oh my God…” You breathe out, eyes wide, as you step into the room. Sid grins wickedly next to you, and you gaze around you in wonder, taken aback by the spectacular room and view. “This is amazing…”

“Yep.” Sid agrees, planting a kiss atop your head. “Thanks, Andre, although really I shouldn’t be thanking you. You still owe me a shit-ton.”

Andre spins on his heels, glowering at Sid. “Yeah, don’t remind me.” His gaze snaps to you once more. “Finally got yourself a girlfriend?”

Cue your blush worsening again. Sid just shakes his head, still rubbing your side. “Nope. Close friend of mine.”

You can imagine how hard it was not to say yes.

Andre’s eyebrow arches up. His lip curls at one end, forming an almost sinister smile, before he saunters over to you. He pauses inches away from you both, and you have to practically anchor yourself in place to stop yourself from moving back. He smirks down at you, humming, “Cute, especially since she’s apparently easily embarrassed. That’s always fun.” He winks. “Call me, cutie.”

With that, he shoves past Sid and through the others, heading back to the stairs. Sid scowls just a bit, snapping, “Don’t forget the food and drinks, Andre.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

It’s silent for a second. The door shuts.

“Sid,” Giles pronounces slowly. “Would you mind perhaps explaining the last two minutes to us?”

Sid sighs, but he nods, escorting you over to one of the chaise lounges. He drapes himself back across it, and you end up sat sideward-on on top of his stomach, his hands settling on the small of your back and your thigh.

“Yeah. Sit.” The others situate themselves in the chairs, couches and lounges around yours, and he starts to explain, sounding marginally irritated. “Basically, the bar we were just in is like the working man’s pub, except for the rich and famous. I can get in with my alias, and it lets me get dirt on people who’d normally be hard to find stuff for. A while back, Andre had clicked on that I was doing informant work and started asking me to find out stuff he needed to know.

“Gradually, the things he wanted to know got more and more high-profile, and I pretty much started charging him favours for doing them. I knew he had this room and usually charged a ridiculous amount for it on New Year’s, so I used a favour and told him to give me it for free a couple of weeks back. He couldn’t fight me on it, since he owes me a ton, but he’s pissed because it means he’s not getting the money he usually does from the new year.”

He laughs darkly, eyes focused on you. “That’s why he was being all moody just now and was a prick toward you; he’s being bitter because I lost him money by asking for the room.”

You blink. “Oh. What on earth did he need to know, to accumulate favours like that? How many favours does he owe you?”

He winks. “I can’t say what it was for, but he owes me thirty-seven favours now.”

There’s a beat of quiet. Giles sighs.

“You worry me sometimes, Sid.” He admits, shaking his head. Byron nods.

“I concur.” His gaze drifts around the room, and then he smiles ever so slightly. “However, this is a rather impressive room and location to witness the new year from.”

You hum in agreement, now beaming down at Sid. “It is. Thank you, Sid – it’s beautiful.”

He just laughs, sitting up and wrapping his arms around your waist. Hesitance flashes through your eyes, and they whirl around the ceiling, panic briefly showing itself in your expression. Sid rubs your back gently.

“Hey, don’t worry. Relax - there’s no cameras in here, or CCTV, or anything that could record what goes on. It’s a private room. I’m pretty sure you can understand what I mean by that.” You tilt your head, not quite comprehending. He rolls his eyes playfully. “This is where back-end deals and less-than-morally-correct meetings go down. That’s why it’s so expensive to get – it’s a completely safe, isolated place for people who can pay to do anything they want in style.”

That makes sense, you realise. You imagine people would come here to establish deals and meet with people when they already have partners. “Oh. So, this is like a black market and cheating den for people who don’t want to get caught, and have the money to pay for it?”

He howls with laughter. “Yeah. I think that’s the funniest way I’ve ever heard it phrased, but that’s the gist of it. What happens in here stays in here, and anything that Andre sees while he’s bringing drinks in or whatever will stay with him. We’re safe here.” His hands rise up to your face, and he cups your cheeks, coaxing your forehead down to rest against his. He gazes up at you, a serene smile dancing on his lips. “So, you like it?”

You nod as much as you can without moving his head as well, eyes glittering and smile blinding. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

He smirks in satisfaction, fingers grazing over your cheeks and into your hair with astounding tenderness. He studies you intensely for a few seconds, almost examining you, before he finally leans up. Lips hovering against the shell of your ear, he tugs you closer to him, one hand coming to curl around your upper arm gently. You shiver, feeling him exhale against your ear, before he whispers, “Good. If you ever fancy a day in here, with me or the guys or all of us, it’s yours. I’ve got more than enough favours.”

Your heart stutters; you almost want to agree there and then, to just have a day alone with him in here. You can imagine it’d be rather… intense.

“Thank you.” You barely manage to breathe out, skin warming. He just laughs lightly, wrapping his arms around your middle and embracing you against him.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Andre brings in drinks, both alcohol and soft, as well as several trays of food, ranging from hot to chilled to snacks. You all sit around the table they’re on, eating and drinking, chatting happily while you all wait for the countdown. You remain on Sid’s knee, cuddled contentedly into his chest.

The boys are all in some of their fancier outfits now, still relatively casual but more formal than their typical dress. You’re in a white chiffon dress, the skirts layers with pale hues of red, yellow, blue, green, pink and violet, creating a semi-rainbow around your legs. The bodice has a sweetheart neckline, and is dusted with gems of different colours as well, and then there’s a strip of multi-coloured material wrapped around the waist part, accentuating your shape. You have matching multi-coloured converse on as well, to keep the outfit relatively casual.

You also have on the jewellery the boys got you for Christmas; alongside your group thumb ring, you now have another one on as well, one that looks like a band of metal twisted around with the ends fused together. Each of their favourite colours is embedded around the ring in gems, with then small, dainty diamonds running around the outer edges of the gems. Additionally, they bought you a necklace, matching the design of the ring in that it has a strip of diamonds running through the pendant, split into three sections. The pendant is shaped like a diamond, and has Byron, Albert and Nico’s birthstones in one section, Giles, Alyn and Leo’s in another, and then Sid, Louis and Robert’s in the third.

Back to the present, there’s something you need to do before it gets too close to the countdown. You make a mental note to get started soon.

“___,” Sid says at one point, studying you sipping at your preferred non-alcoholic drink. You hum, swallowing and meeting his eyes. “Are you seriously not going to have anything to drink? It’s New Year. Come on, just have one.”

You shake your head, smirking. “Just because you’re in love with alcohol doesn’t mean I am. I’d rather be completely sober for this, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes. “I more want you to get drunk so I can see what kind of drunk you are.” He reaches over to the table, plucking something from one of the trays while he supports you with his other arm. He then sits back, tugging you back against him. “Here. It’s a sweet you like, with just a little bit of vodka in it. Don’t tell me you’re not curious in the slightest.”

You smile amusedly, shaking your head. “Nope.”

He stares at you, baffled, for a long few seconds. He finally sighs, relenting. “Geez. You’re a thousand times more responsible than me, at least.”

You grin, reaching down to pluck the sweet from his fingers. “True. So, instead, open up.” He blinks. You laugh softly, tapping his mouth and encouraging, “Sid, come on. If I’m not going to eat it, enjoy it for me.”

His lips stretch into a wide smirk. You can feel the others watching the back-and-forth exchange, and remind yourself to keep it appropriate considering that your parents and brothers are among the people around you. “Fine. But, only if you feed it to me with your mouth.”

Your mind recoils instantly, alarm ringing inside you. “Sid, I can’t. Rule six, remember?”

He snorts, eyes lolling to the others. “Oi, you lot. Am I violating rule six – that being that I can’t touch her intimately in front of you all – if she uses her mouth to feed me food? She won’t be kissing me.”

Giles arches an eyebrow. “You’d be coming astoundingly close to breaching it, but logically, there would be no intimate contact.”

Byron nods. “He’s correct. You’re walking a rather fine line, but it would not surpass that point.”

Sid grins. His fingers find your chin, tilting your head down to face him, before he eases your mouth open. He takes the sweet, tucking it in between your teeth, and you hold it there with a swiftly-forming blush. The others are watching on, you can feel, and you can see your mum smirking away from her seat. Xander and Tobias are killing themselves laughing by this point, amused by your shyness and embarrassment.

_Damn you, Sid. Fine. Let’s play, then._

Deciding to mortify him just as much as you are right now, you reach up, fingers settling around his jaw. He blinks, surprised by your firm grip, but doesn’t fight you as you coax his head up more, fingertips easing his mouth open. Using his shoulder to elevate yourself a bit more, your eyes lock with his. Your own reflect determined, almost seductive intent, mischief and just a little bit of evil seeping into the normally innocent orbs. He gazes up at you, never looking away once, entranced by your beautiful expression.

You hover there, above him, lips millimetres from his own. Your teeth sink into the sweet, bursting it open.

The vodka seeps through the gaps, dripping around the casing it was safely held in, before trickling over your lips and into Sid’s mouth. From the darkening tint in his eyes, it’s working; the intimacy of the action, and the look in your eyes, is getting to him. His cheeks start to flush slightly.

Pushing through your embarrassment, you smirk down at him around the sweet. You swear, you see his pupils expand just a bit.

With that, you open your mouth, letting the sweet fall into his mouth. Licking the residue of it and the vodka from your teeth and lips, you nudge his mouth closed, whispering, “Eat.”

You’ve never seen such a wide, sexy, shit-eating grin from him in your life.

He chews the sweet and swallows, something nearly inappropriate swirling in his eyes. He leans up, hand slipping around your waist, before he whispers, “I take back what I said. I’m using all those favours on keeping you in here, just you and me. Better prepare yourself, Love.”

Your already flushed skin practically becomes molten.

“So!” Your mum chirps, breaking the relatively intimate atmosphere. You jump just a bit at the sound, which makes Sid chuckle darkly, before he buries his face in your throat and cuddles you even closer. You watch her beam away, asking, “How about we all announce or decide on New Year’s Resolutions?”

You give her a dry look around your blush. “Mum, very few people actually stick them. I hope you realise that.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Oh well! It doesn’t matter. Let’s do it anyway!” She claps. “My resolution is to have a wonderful wedding, and to make it something I’ll treasure for the rest of my life.”

Lucian sighs beside her, but there’s a small, find smile tugging at his lips. “As is mine, as well as learning to be a better father, to  _all_  of my children.”

You grin, seeing him send you a gentle look at the end. Your mum squeals. “That’s going to be one of mine as well, but obviously in terms of being a mother, to all of my children.” She gestures to Xander. “What’s yours?”

He smiles amusedly. “To finish college with decent grades and get into university.” He looks to his twin. “Tobias?”

Said male grunts. “Finishing college with good grades and starting training for becoming a knight.”

Your mum gestures to Alyn, the next one along. He sighs. “I’m the same. I want to complete college and start working toward being a knight, as well as mastering horse riding.”

Leo’s next. He grins. “Passing college and going to university. I’m not sure what I want to study just yet.”

Giles smiles when it’s his turn, saying coolly, “I wish to go on and study either Politics or Law at university.”

Next is Robert. “I want to pass college and go on to study Art in University.”

Louis, now. “I want to pass college, and do some more volunteering at the orphanages around Wysteria.”

Your mum coos at that, looking to Byron. “I plan to finish college and take full-time control of the conglomerate, working toward expanding out more internationally and ultimately globally.”

Leo hoots, which makes you laugh. Nico smiles sweetly, draping his torso across Byron’s lap and dropping his legs over Albert’s. “I want to survive college and pass, and then I’m not really sure what I want to do. I might just help out with the conglomerate for a while, if I can.”

Byron starts to stroke his hair fondly, nodding. “Of course you can.”

Albert clears his throat. “I wish to finish college with the best grades I can possibly achieve, then continue to work alongside Byron to maintain the conglomerate.”

Byron smiles at him, nodding once more. “Thank you, Al.”

Sid’s next. He thinks for a few seconds, humming into your throat. “I want to pass college, and then look into working in intelligence, both online and offline.” He pauses for a moment. He murmurs the next words softly, so much so that only you hear them. “And, maybe, find my parents and ask them what the hell I did wrong.”

Your heart immediately aches. You didn’t know he even thought about his real parents that much, since he never, ever mentions them. You didn’t know at all that he was hurting over them.

He squeezes your waist, and you blink, realising it’s your turn. “I… I want to pass college, and then…” You think, trying to come up with something. In all honesty, you don’t know what you want to do with your life. You’re barely at the end of your teens. “I’m not quite sure what I want to do. I haven’t decided yet.”

Your mum gives you an encouraging smile. “You have time. You have the rest of your life to decide what you want to do and be – it’s fine to wait and see what happens in the future.”

You send her a grateful smile back, nodding. “Yeah, thank you.”

It’s nearly time. Your eyes settle on the clock for a few moments, before you then steel yourself, head drifting up and down. You slide out of Sid’s arm, giving him a small grin. You retrieve your bag, finding the smaller bag within it, containing nine thin gift boxes. Your mum, Lucian, Xander and Tobias all smile or laugh knowingly, to which you chuckle, turning to your boys.

“Guys, can you do something for me, please?” There’s nods all around. “You all have earphones with you, don’t you?”

More nods. You sigh with relief. “Okay. Basically, I need you all to move the couches and chairs you’re on so they’re facing the balcony, then sit down and put your earphones in, loud enough to block out anything being said. I need you to do this for a good while – probably about twenty minutes in total – but I promise it’s for a reason. I just… need to do something.”

You need to tell each of them, one by one, how much they mean to you. It’s important-  no, vital, that you give them the individual attention they need and want.

There are dubious looks all around, confusion flitting across their beautiful features. You smile sheepishly. “Please? You’ll understand soon, I promise.”

They’re baffled, but they trust you. They do as you ask.

Soon, they’re all sat down comfortably, putting their earphones in. You stand before them, the bag hidden behind you, and sigh out, “One last thing. I’d like to request that you all close your eyes while you wait. Please, just bear with me. I promise it’ll make sense.”

Leo tilts his head. “___, what is this? Why do we need to close our eyes?”

You just shake your head. “I’ll explain afterward, if it doesn’t become apparent by that point.”

He arches an eyebrow, but he says nothing more. One by one, they turn their music on, eyes closing. They relax in their seats, going still and silent.

_Thank God._

Your mum chuckles. “You’re so creative, doing it like this. It’s so thoughtful for them all.”

You hum softly, retrieving Alyn’s box from the bag and setting the latter down on one of the tables. “I hope so. Things like this need to happen, so no one feels left out or forgotten. Being here threw me off a bit, but this will do as well. I was planning on taking them aside each, but obviously, that can’t happen.”

You open the box briefly, glancing at its contents.

It’s a banded bracelet, made of strong, durable material and coloured in Alyn’s notorious deep red. With several layers, it loops around the wrist several times, then ties together with a metal clasp, one made personally, specified by you when you ordered them at a shop in town.

Alyn’s is a sword, with a very intricate, shockingly real-life Arthur curled around it. Embedded in the sword are two gems, set in yours and Alyn’s favourite colours.

Each boy has one, made just for them.

Albert’s is brown in the colour of the band. The clasp is his glasses, sat atop Benjamin, again made very life-like in appearance. Each of Benjamin’s inner ears contain gems of yours and his favourite colours.

Byron’s band is midnight blue, and the clasp is a tight-knit collection of stars surrounding a moon, in the pattern of his constellation, Sagittarius. Sweeping down in front of the stars is Spinner, and two of the stars are gems once more, both of your favourite colours like the others.

Giles’ band is his favourite burgundy shade, and the clasp is a quill pen, since he loves calligraphy and has rather famously beautiful handwriting, with the words, “Tourner Dans Le Vide” engraved on the pen; it’s his favourite song, the one you and he will sing to each other when things are hard or he’s sick. Stood behind the pen is Michelangelo, and the gems are there again, specific to you and him, embedded in the pen’s frame.

Leo’s band is a soft gold colour, the clasp being an open book, very, very delicately engraved with several of the words of “Gone”, the lullaby you sing to him when he has nightmares. You chose the first verse for it, and so it reads, “Dark the stars and dark the moon, hush the night and the morning loon. Tell the horses and beat on your drum, gone their master, gone their son.” To the side of the book sits Sebastian, with two of his feathers embedded with the gems for you and him.

Louis’ band is baby blue, with the clasp a white flower, the exact one from the fairy tale he always loved as a child, surrounded by feathers. Lucia flies amongst the feathers, the gems set again on two of the flower’s petals, made for you and him.

Nico’s band is rose-hued, and the clasp is Chirol, sat happily with a cup of tea in front of him, and a fencing sword in his paws. The sword, like Alyn’s, is inset with the gems specific to you and him.

Robert’s band is a deep, rich forest green, and the clasp is Amber, curled around a painting palette. The palette has several different colours of paint on it, but the green, and your favourite colour, are both set in gems instead.

Finally, Sid’s is an indigo blue band, the clasp being Jess sat just behind a bottle Le Tourneau wine, one of his favourites. On the bottle is inscribed, a little inside joke of yours, “Good info, that.” The gems on his are inset in two of Jess’ spots, she being a Dalmatian, but they’re both on her ears.

You smile softly, closing the box. You’re so happy with them all.

Exhaling gradually, you glance up at your family. Your mum chuckles, turning the TV on and moving to the couch facing it, and so away from you and the boys. “Come on, you three. Let’s give her the privacy she wants.”

They all do as she says, albeit with winks from Xander and Tobias and a little smirk from Lucian. Shaking your head, you grin just a little, waiting until they’re all sat down and music starts to play from the TV. They turn it up loud enough that they can’t hear you talking, and it’s at this point that you move to Alyn, the right-most of them all.

You settle next to him on the couch with gentle caution. He stiffens just a bit, but doesn’t open his eyes. Chuckling to yourself, you set the box in your lap, reaching up to his ears. Leaning in close, you carefully remove the earphones, whispering into his ear, “Don’t open your eyes.”

You can feel him frowning already. You giggle to yourself as his hands find your middle, resting there and nudging you closer to him. “Why not?”

You press your lips together for a second, trying to speak through your growing smile. “Because, if you do, I won’t be able to say what I want to. Please keep them closed.”

He huffs just slightly, but he keeps them closed. The earphones held in your palms, you hug his neck, lips hovering above his ear. You start to speak softly, telling him everything you want and need to say.

“I want to thank you, Alyn. For years, you’ve protected me. You’ve kept me safe and done everything you could to make sure that I was happy and secure. You were always there, or always running straight to me, when I needed help. You’ve teased me relentlessly and called me ‘Silly’, ‘Idiot’, ‘Moron’ or ‘Numpty’ more times than I can count, but that’s something I’ve treasured so much nonetheless. Thank you, for all of that. Thank you, for being here for me, and… being with me.”

You cradle his face, lips now close to his. Closing your eyes, you breathe out the words you’ve wanted to say to him, to all of them, personally, for so long. “I love you, Alyn, so, so much. Thank you for loving me, and letting me love you as well as the others. Thank you for letting me be the happiest girl in the world, and saving my life, in so many different ways.”

With that, you press your lips to his, kissing him with a controlled, heartfelt passion.

He tenses slightly at first, but then seems to recover in an instant. He tugs you onto his lap, reaching up to cradle your head and keep it close to his. He kisses you back with passionate fire of his own, other palm flattened against your back.

But you can’t let yourself spend too long with any of them. You don’t have enough time.

You gently push back from him, eyes opening. His are still closed, thankfully, so he doesn’t see your fierce blush. Your fingers rest against his mouth when he reaches up to kiss you again, and you murmur softly,

“I need to spend time with the others, as well. Sorry. Please keep your eyes closed until I take your earphones out again.” You reluctantly force yourself off his lap, taking the box and settling it in his hands. “This is another Christmas present from me, but I wanted to give you it now instead. I love you, Alyn.”

You put the earphones back, and just as you’re about to move to Leo, he catches your wrist. His lips are graced by a rare, beautiful smile. “I love you too, ___, with everything that I am. You’re everything to me. You’re my world, and I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”

Your already pounding heart thunders harder. You grin, giving him a last kiss on the cheek and chuckling out, even though he can’t hear you, “Thank you.”

Forcing yourself up, you leave him sat there, flushed as hell. However, he’s still beaming away, trying to stifle the smile with his box, eyes closed.

Now, you sit next to Leo, on Alyn’s right side, after retrieving his box. Trying not to get lost in the gorgeously relaxed expression he has, you do the same as you did with Alyn, leaning in close and easing the earphones from his ears. “Don’t open your eyes, please. Keep them closed, okay?”

He pauses, apparently surprised by the request. Nonetheless, he curls his arms around you, tugging you onto his lap sideward-on. “Okay. Hey, Baby.”

You laugh at that. “Hey.” You embrace his neck for a moment, inhaling his familiar, sharp scent, before you sigh and start to speak again. “Can you… let me talk for a minute?”

He nods into your neck. Your eyes close. “Thank you, Leo. You’ve always been there for me when things have been hard – you’ve gotten me through nightmares so many times, have stayed with me to help me sleep, and have always been there when I’ve been scared or uncertain or just needed someone to reassure me. You’ve let me cry to you and have calmed me down over the years, and have always supported me when I’ve needed it the most. Thank you so, so much.”

Just like with Alyn, you draw back a bit. Eyes remaining closed, you grip the earphones hard, exhaling and resting your forehead against his. Your heart feels like it could burst with the love you’re desperate to show and give them all. “I love you, Leo. I love you, so much, there aren’t enough words to express it. Thank you for letting us be like this, and making me the happiest girl on the planet, and saving me so many times in so many different ways. Thank you for loving me, for who I am. I love you.”

Your lips find his. He practically crushes you against him, and you can feel him trembling just slightly, from what you guess is emotion. Cradling his head, you kiss him deeply, speaking thousands upon thousands of silent words to him.

He whispers around the kiss, gasping out, “___, Baby. Princess. God, I love you. I love you so much, with all my heart, body and soul. You’re my world, Princess. Thank you for saving  _me_ , for saving  _us_ , and showing us true happiness.”

You kiss him once more, hard, before pulling back. Your mouth rests against his forehead, and you whisper in a shaky voice, thick with adoration and love and overwhelming joy, “Keep your eyes closed. This is another Christmas present, but I didn’t want to give you it yet. Don’t open it now – please, just keep your eyes closed and wait until I take your earphones out again.”

He nods, feeling you replacing the earphones and pressing the box into his hands. Trying to calm your hammering heart, you retrieve Giles’ box, moving to him now.

He’s probably just going to put you on his lap like the others, you muse silently, deciding to just go for it.

You perch on his knee delicately, turning so you’re sat cross-legged atop him. Before he can react and open his eyes, you repeat your actions, taking the earphones from his ears and uttering, “Keep your eyes closed. I want to say something, so can you keep them shut for me?”

His arms wind around your waist, bringing you flush against him, before he smiles gently and nods. “Of course. Good evening, Precious.”

You have to stifle a giggle at the calm response. “Thank you.”

Fingers threading through his hair, you sigh softly, starting again. You’re saying similar things each time, because you feel the same for them all, but there are personal differences in the details of the first part and marginal differences in the wording of the second part.

“I want to thank you, Giles, for everything. You were one of the first people in the group and half of the only support I had in establishing it when this first started. You’ve done nothing but continue to support me all that time, caring for me and watching over me, protecting me and keeping me on my toes. Be it in P.E. when we dance together, or in French when we sit and talk with Louis, you’re always making me happy. You’re always there, helping me in any way you can. Thank you so, so much.”

Your forehead settles against his, lips brushing over his mouth. “Thank you for accepting who I am and being willing to be with me like this. Everything you’ve done has been so, so important and helped so much, and you’ve saved me so many times. I think I’m the happiest girl in the world right now. I love you, Giles, more than words can say. I love you so much, and you mean so much to me. Thank you for loving me.”

His fingers rise, tracing over your cheeks. He utters out his own reply ever so softly, quietly and delicately but full of love and adoration. “As I love you, ___. You’ve truly made me the happiest man alive, by allowing me to love you and be with you, even if like this. Thank you for being there for me, saving me over and over again and showing me what it means to truly live. You’re my everything, Princess. You are my world.”

He brings you into the kiss this time. You don’t protest at all.

He doesn’t hold back this time, at all. His touch is deep, passionate and lustful but still loving, breath-taking and enchanting yet fleeting. He kisses you again and again, keeping you trapped against him, locked in his arms.

It’s almost impossible to pull away.

However, you force yourself to, wrenching your lips from his after a few more blindingly pleasurable moments. You have to press your fingers to his mouth to prevent him from chasing your own, and then you put one earphone back, panting out, “I’m sorry. I need time with the others as well.” You put the box in his lap, whispering, “Don’t open this yet, and keep your eyes closed, okay? It’s another Christmas present from me, but one I didn’t want to give you until today. I love you.”

Moving swiftly so you don’t let him keep you there, you put the other earphone back, then stand up. Next is Robert, so you get his box from the bag, then bounce over to him.

Doing the same as Giles and comfortably in a rhythm now, you ease yourself onto his lap, settling yourself atop him with your legs crossed. Feeling him stiffen, expression betraying surprise and eyes moving under his eyelids, you lean in and remove his earphones quickly, whispering, “Hi. Keep your eyes closed, okay? Please, just do it for me, so I can say what I need to say.”

He relaxes instantly, nodding. His hands drift up to your hips, massaging them while you inhale and start again.

“I want to tell you this, Robert. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You were one of the two people I first brought into the group, and supported me throughout the whole time I spent building it up. You were always, and are always, giving me the advice I need, or telling me what I already know so I’ll actually come to understand it. You’re forever letting me cry to you, but are also always teaching me new things. You’ve showed me how the world can be beautiful in so many different ways and how little things are so important, and I’m so, so grateful for it. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

Your forehead settles against his. You close your eyes, uttering very softly, “I love you so much, Robert. I love you so, so, so much, I don’t have the words to express it. Thank you for accepting what and who I am, for being with me like this and for making me the happiest girl in the world. Thank you for loving me and staying with me, and for letting me in and saving me time and time again. I love you.”

His nose rubs against yours very slightly, your little secret. Your heart flutters, and then he’s breathing out against your lips,

“I don’t think you could ever understand how much I love you, ___. My beautiful, wonderful, impossible, incredible Treasure. Princess… I adore you. I absolutely adore you with all I am and love you with everything that makes me the man I am. Thank you for showing me a different way to live, and for always remaining with me, even at the hardest of times. I love you so much.”

You lean in for the kiss at the same time as he does.

One of his hands rises to your head, fingers sifting through your hair and settling against your scalp. He kisses you ardently, with consuming, deep, blistering love and passion, but still sweetly and with the adoration he speaks of. His hand grips at your hip, warm and strong, sending heat flushing through you.

_How am I going to survive doing this five more times?_

You reluctantly withdraw after a moment, slightly breathless, before nudging your nose against his once more. “Sorry – I need to speak to the others as well. Don’t open your eyes, and don’t open this. It’s a Christmas present I wanted to give you today, instead.” You leave the box on his lap, exhaling shakily and kissing him very briefly once more. “I love you.”

Forcing yourself up, you put his earphones back and take a moment to breathe deeply, calming your love-drunk body.

You seek out Louis’ box now, and then make your way over to said blond, now on the second couch with Byron, Albert and Nico. Sliding onto his lap, you ease the earphones from his ears, cuddling into him and mumbling, “Hi. Can you keep your eyes closed for me, please, while I talk?”

He hums, curling his arms around you and embracing you against him tightly. You laugh softly, starting again.

“Thank you, Louis. You’re one of the ones in the group that I’ve known for the longest amount of time, and have been with me every step of the way since then. You let me in despite how little you trusted anyone, and you let me help you. I’m so grateful for that, and I’m so thankful for the normality you’ve given me all this time. Even just when you’ve sat with me and watched films or listened to music or talked, when things have been hectic, you’ve kept me anchored and focused around the chaos.”

You nuzzle your nose into his cheek, uttering against the corner of his mouth, “I love you, Louis. I love you so, so, so much. You’re so important to me and I love you being with me so much. You’ve made me the happiest girl in the world by accepting me and being with me like this, and for that I’ll never be able to thank you enough. Thank you for saving me and loving me.”

Your lips seek out his.

You’re drawn in instantly, swept away in a heavenly, almost dream-like haze. He kisses you very slowly, lovingly, cherishing every touch and moment, but with such adoration that it melts you where you sit atop him. His kisses are like feathers, brushing and retreating, then returning to ghost over yours once more.

You almost become lost in the rhythm, but manage to pull yourself from it after several seconds, detaching your mouth from his. He kisses your cheek, again and again and again, whispering, “I love you, Angel. You’re my princess, and my ___, and I love you with all that I am. You saved me, and I owe you my life. You brought me out of the dark when no one else could and I was suffering every day, but you gave me hope. You’re my white flower. I love you with all my heart, ___, and I don’t ever want to lose you or let you go.”

You brush a last kiss over his lips, hushing, “You won’t lose me, Louis. All of us will have our forever.” You settle his box on top of his thigh, whispering while you pick up his earphones, “Don’t open this, and don’t open your eyes, please. It’s a Christmas present from me that I wanted to give you today, instead. Wait until I take your earphones out again, okay?”

He nods. You smile gracefully, putting the earphones back and standing up.

You find Byron’s box, making your way to him, before slipping onto his knee cross-legged. Leaning forward, you take his earphones out, arms curling around his neck. He exhales softly, his own winding around you tightly. “Hey. Keep your eyes closed, okay? Please, just keep them shut while I talk.”

He pauses for a brief moment, then nods. You smile. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You’ve provided me with so much support over the years, and have been there to help and keep me calm even when I’ve been nearing hysteria. You’ve made me realise so many things over the years and have allowed me to make so many memories with all of you, both in Stein this year and before that. Thank you so much, Byron.”

Your foreheads touch, just like all the others. “Thank you for loving me, and loving who I am. Thank you for letting me in when you blocked everyone else out, and for giving us the chance of becoming this, in Stein. You mean so much to me, Byron, and I love you so, so, so much. I think I’m safely the happiest girl in the world, and am so grateful for it, as well as for you saving me in so many different ways. I love you.”

He presses his forehead to yours harder, murmuring very quietly, “Thank you, ___, for showing and teaching me how to be human. You made me understand both the most basic and most complex aspects of humanity, and made me come to realise that I wasn’t devoid of emotion like I was always told. Thank you, for believing and trusting in me, for having faith in my humanity. You are my world, my love, my life and my purpose. I don’t intend to ever let you go, and want nothing more than to see you safe, happy and protected, wherever we are and whoever we’re with.”

His lips ghost over yours. His hand slides up to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through the silken strands, playing with them affectionately. “I love you, ___, with all that I am. I cherish your very existence and find myself thankful every day for our having met you. You’re nothing short of a miracle, and are everything to me. There is no one else who ever has and ever will mean as much to me as you do, because you are my world. All that I am is centred around you, and I love you unconditionally because of it.”

You can feel your eyes moistening, even when closed. Love surges through you, and your mouth descends on his.

He locks you there in his arms, kissing you like a sacred artefact, worshipping you with an intense but somehow controlled and restrained fervour. You feel safe and protected with his arms bound around you, head held to his, and lips against his own.

Before things heat up any more, you pull back, trying to ignore the urge to continue.

“I need time with the others. Sorry.” You apologise softly. Leaving the box on his thigh, you lean in again, whispering, “Please keep your eyes closed for now, and don’t open this – it’s a Christmas present from me, but I wanted to give you it today instead. I love you.”

You heave yourself up, nerves prickling and tingling like mad.

_Six out of nine down, and I haven’t lost control yet. So far, so good._

Now, it’s Nico’s turn. Only three boxes left in the bag, you set them all out on the table, then take Nico’s and tiptoe over to him. You climb up and settle yourself atop him, removing his earphones and resting your forehead against his. Your eyes flutter closed. “Hey. Keep your eyes closed while I talk, okay?”

He hums a little, nodding and cuddling your waist, stomach pulled flush against him. Your fingers tighten around the earphones while you speak.

“Thank you so much, Nico. Ever since the first day I met you, you’ve done nothing but bring joy into my life. You’ve made me so happy and shown me so many wonderful things, and I’m so thankful for it. Whenever I’ve been unable to smile on my own, you’ve always gotten me there, and have always smiled for me when I’ve needed it. I’m so, so grateful for that.”

Your lips inch toward his, heart thumping away. It hasn’t slowed once, with any of them.

“I love you, Nico. You accepted me and love me for who and what I am, and let me be with you I this way, and I can’t tell you how happy I am that you have; I’m the happiest girl in the world, but even that’s not enough. I love and cherish you so much. You’re so, so important to me, and I’m so thankful, because in so many ways, you’ve saved me. I love you so much.”

His throat works for a moment, and you can hear him swallowing hard. Then, he speaks, voice trembling. “Oh, ___. Sweetie… Princess… I love you so much, it shouldn’t be possible. You’re my whole world and life. Everything I am, everything I do and think, is for or about you. You’re my purpose and I live to see you smile, because when you’re happy, I’m happy too. I don’t know how to explain it and do it justice, but you’re my everything. I love you from the bottom of my heart and will do forever.”

As soon as he goes quiet, you’re kissing him.

You taste tears. You can barely stop your own from forming.

Even with the salt, his mouth ticks and brushes against yours, countless times, still ever so sweet and gentle. He kisses you with that innocent yet completely seductive touch he has, that borderline passion that sends your head spinning. Your fingers clench around his earphones.

Then, you’re withdrawing, forehead pressed to his heavily. You can barely breathe, let alone speak. “Keep your eyes closed, okay? Please, until I take your earphones out again.” You leave the box in his lap. “This is a Christmas present I wanted to give you today, but don’t open it yet. I love you.”

He swallows again, nodding. Your eyes opening, they home in on the tear track on his cheeks. You put his earphones back, then smooth away the moisture on his face before standing.

_Whew… geez, this is so hard. I want to cry, in a good way._

You’re about ready to bawl, you’re feeling so loved and emotional.

Albert’s turn. You wonder how he’s going to react to this.

Deciding that it’s now or never, you head over to him with his box. You sit on his knee sideward-on, so as to not send him into cardiac arrest imminently, before swiftly covering his glasses and tugging one of his earphones out. “Don’t panic – it’s me. I need you to keep your eyes closed while I tell you something. Am I okay sitting like this?”

He hesitates for a few seconds, and you hear him swallow, then clear his throat. Finally, he nods, hands tentatively resting on your sides. You sigh in relief, removing the hand in front of his glasses to take his other earphone out and embrace his neck.

“I wanted to say thank you, Albert. The whole time you’ve been with us, you’ve done nothing but help me in protecting the guys, even if you’ve sat there and shrugged it off if it’s been about anyone other than Byron. You’ve kept the guys safe, but you’ve also kept me safe. You’ve gotten me away from danger countless times and have always been there, in many different ways, supporting or teaching or caring for me. I’m so, so grateful for that.”

Your hands cradle his face, cupping his cheeks, thumbs caressing his cheekbones. You lean in, eyes drifting shut.

“And l love you, so much. You mean so much and are so important to me. I love you so, so, so much, and I’m grateful because you’ve let me in, while at the same time accepting me for who I am. You’ve done so much for me and helped me become stronger time and time again. You’ve saved me so many times, and for that, I can’t thank you enough. I love you.”

He’s so warm. He shudders beneath you, fingers tightening their grip on your sides. When he speaks, his voice comes out soft but still cure, wavering with emotion but somehow undoubtable. “You know how much I love you, ___. I never thought it possible before you, but you have become everything to me. Your safety and happiness is all that matters to me, and if you are content, I am as well. You’re just… you’re so beautiful, in so many ways, and so strange and odd and different, but it only makes you all the more fascinating. I love you.”

He tilts his head. He catches you in one very simple, but also very complex, kiss.

It’s sweet and innocent with that familiar tint of nervousness he always has, but it’s ever so gentle, tender and heartfelt and so warm that it could melt you. He clutches you to him, holding you so tightly you can barely breathe, but you don’t care. All you can think about is the pleasure of his lips on yours.

Eventually, though, you have to withdraw. Trembling, you pull back, thumb smoothing over his cheek while you whisper, “I need time with the others as well. This is a Christmas present from me, one I didn’t want to give you on Christmas. Don’t open it, or open your eyes, until I take your earphones out again. Okay?”

He nods, without hesitation this time, the movement transferring into your own head. You leave the box on his thigh. “Yes.”

“Thank you.” You murmur, kissing his cheek, before you return his earphones and stand up once more.

_One last one. Of course, it’s Sid._

You retrieve his box, leaving the table empty except for the bag, before approaching him on the chaise lounge. Grinning softly at his idle smirk, you decide to tease him a bit more as revenge for earlier.

You don’t sit on him cross-legged, instead climbing up so you’re straddling him, a knee on either side of his hips. When you sit there daintily, eyes fluttering closed and hands sliding over his shoulders, his own instantly settle on your thighs. You shiver, feeling his fingers tease their way under your skirts to flatten around your flesh, warm and strong.

Nonetheless, you pop the earphones out, doing this for the last time. “Hey there. Keep your eyes closed, okay? Let me talk for a bit.”

He chuckles darkly, palms sliding up your thighs just a bit, then back down, massaging rhythmically. “No complaints here, Love. Carry on.”

You can’t help but grin, hugging his neck and shuffling closer to him. “Thank you, Sid. Thank you for everything. Ever since you joined the group, you’ve always been there to me. You’ve dragged me through the hardest, darkest times of my life, and have always been there, with whatever or whoever I needed, usually before I’d even had time to ask you for it. You’ve always known when something’s wrong or off and have always made my stubborn self talk, and that’s something I’m really grateful for. Thank you so much.”

Grin still intact, you nudge your forehead into his. “I love you. I love you so much, for everything. Thank you, for accepting me as I am and letting us be together like this. I think I’m the happiest girl on the planet and you’re part of the reason why I am. Thank you for loving me, for saving me again and again, and letting me love you like this. I love you so, so, so much.”

You can feel his identical grin without even seeing it. His hands squeeze your thighs just a little, lips inches from yours as he murmurs huskily,

“Love, you have no idea how much I love you. I’ve never, ever loved anyone liked I’ve loved you, and I never will with anyone else You’re the only person I really care about, and I never want to let you go. I don’t plan on ever leaving, and want you by my side forever. I want to see more of that beautiful smile, more of those gorgeous eyes, and learn everything there is to know about you. I love ya, ___, more than you could ever know. I adore you. I love you with everything I am, both in Sid Arnault and Lloyd Grandier.”

With that, he consumes you in a kiss.

As always with him, it’s hot. He’s warm around you, palms molten, lips almost feverish. He kisses you hard, deeply, borderline roughly, with such intense passion and desire. Arms locked around the back of his neck, you grip onto him for dear life, back arching into him when his fingertips make a teasing trail up your thigh.

_No more… enough._

You wrench yourself back, detaching your lips from him. Your hand clamps over his mouth when he chases after you. “The countdown starts soon. Bear with me for a sec.” You take one of his hands from your thigh, putting the box in it, before you open your eyes. His are still closed, and you sigh with relief at the sight, mumbling, “Don’t open your eyes yet – I’ll tell you when. Don’t open this yet, either. It’s a Christmas present from me that I wanted to give you today.”

Shoving back and off him, you find your legs trembling, and have to take a minute to breathe before you can regain your strength and composure. Body flushed with heat, you shake slightly for a few seconds before calming down, at which point you make your way over to Alyn.

You ease his earphones out. You touch him on the arm. Leo’s follow, and you touch him as well. Giles. Robert. Louis. Byron. Nico. Albert. You touch Sid’s cheek softly.

They all open their eyes. You stand before them, in the centre space in front of the couches and lounge, gazing at them all with a soft, tender, loving look. A breath-taking smile graces your lips, and then you laugh gently. “Thank you for bearing with me. I think it’s pretty obvious why I did that now – I wanted to have a moment with each of you, and needed it to be as close to private as I could get, with the surroundings I hadn’t anticipated being in for the New Year.”

You shake your head, fingers wrapping around your upper arm. “So, thank you all, for loving and accepting me. Thank you for making me the happiest girl in the world and letting us all be together like this. I love you all with everything I am. You’re my world, all of you.” The smile turns into a stunning, beaming grin. “And, now, you can open your presents. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year, my wonderful, beautiful, impossible princes.”

They share looks with one another for a few seconds, seeming taken aback by the way you did the whole thing. Then, they all open the boxes, each taking out their bracelets.

Your stomach flutters with nerves, just a little bit. You hope they like them.

“___,” Leo breathes out, staring down at his in amazement. “This… are these custom-made? It’s even got the lullaby…”

Giles’ grin is almost blindingly majestic and graceful as he studies his own. “Indeed, they are. You even had ‘Tourner Dans Le Vide’ engraved in it… it’s wonderful.”

“Chirol! Oh my God, it’s so cute!” Nico gushes, eyes practically sparkling.

Byron nods, his own gaze exuding love and appreciation. “They’re truly outstanding, ___. They’re beautiful.”

Albert blinks, but his cheeks are flushed as he murmurs, “You had one made for each of us specifically?”

Your hands come together, fingertips pressed to your lips. You watch Alyn run his thumb over the clasp on his bracelet, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. “This is unreal. It’s so life-like…”

Robert shakes his head, a gorgeous smile dancing on his lips. “I’ve never seen such precision and detail. It’s truly awe-inspiring, ___.”

Louis nods slowly, eyes glazing over just a little. “The white flower, and Lucia. It’s so… I don’t even know what to say…”

Finally, Sid is grinning away, running his fingers over the clasp on his. “It’s amazing, ___. All the little details are perfect.”

You heave out a loud, sharp sigh of relief, said emotion slamming into you hard enough to wind you. Legs shaking again, you lower yourself down to your knees. You take a moment to bow your head, admitting somewhat breathlessly, “Thank heavens. I was so worried you wouldn’t like them. I know some of you prefer rings or necklaces, so I wasn’t sure-”

In seconds, you’re engulfed in hugs from them all. Together, in a group hug that nearly suffocates you, they surround you, embracing and cradling you in their arms. Each murmur how much they love them, whispering their thanks or laughing out how adorable you are for worrying so much.

You can only relax into them, letting them appreciate you and basking in the love they give you.

Ten or so minutes later, you’re on your feet again, the boys have all put their bracelets on and it’s five to twelve. You collect your coat, as do the others, your family now included.

The boys are still marvelling at their bracelets for the most part by the time you make your way outside with them, the icy midnight wind whipping around you like knives. You wander over to the railing, gazing down at Wysteria pulsing and thrumming with life beneath you. You can see the clock tower preparing for the countdown, and hearing the increasing screams and shouts of those waiting for the fireworks as the minutes tick away.

The boys stand around you, making a half-moon around you, staring down at the city as well. You finger the outdoor fairy lights wrapped around the balcony, giving it a heavenly, white glow, lighting up all of your faces even in the shadows of the oncoming midnight. Your heart won’t stop thudding away in your chest with the elation thrumming through you, lips curled up in a permanent smile.

“Five minutes left.” Giles sighs out softly, arms crossed and a gentle, majestic smile on his lips. “Are we all ready to depart from 2016 and move into 2017?”

Leo leans on the railing, heaving out dramatically, “Are you kidding me? George Michael’s dead. I need another three years just to come to terms with that.” He moans, dropping his head against the metal. “I’m still not over Alan Rickman dying. Snape…”

You rub his shoulder comfortingly, while Byron exhales quietly, murmuring, “Everything dies, eventually. It is nature’s way to take things from the world when it is their time.”

You laugh a little at that. “That reminds me of a song I know.”

He arches an eyebrow. “How so?”

You continue to rub Leo’s shoulder soothingly, reciting, “It says in it about how the singer’s forever chasing after time, but everybody dies eventually.’”

He smiles slightly now, head drifting up and down. “The author of that song is correct, then. Everything comes to an end, eventually.”

Louis gazes down at the fairy lights, fingers tracing over the chilled metal railing, while he murmurs, “But our end is nowhere in sight.” His eyes rise to yours, and his voice is subtly hopeful when he asks, “We’ll have our forever, won’t we?”

A beaming smile dances on your lips. You nod, assuring him softly, “Of course. As long as we stay strong and hold on to what we have, and remember who we are and why we’re together, we’ll have our forever no matter what. But even then, we shouldn’t focus on that forever.”

That earns you several surprised looks. You giggle. “That song says something else, and I think it’s relevant to us.” You close your eyes, explaining, “It mentions not wanting to be afraid of dying, and just being able to live one’s life. Then, it says that it’s a human thing to do, to try and leave behind proof of their existence, but the thing that will never die is the memories of that person’s life.”

You grin, just a bit. “As long as we can enjoy and cherish the forever we create, however long it lasts, we have no reason to be afraid of when it ends. I mean, if all goes well, it’ll only end when, in years to come, we die. So, until then, all we can do is be happy and live how we want to, loving as we want to, and preserving the happiness we have while making more memories with each other. Then, when we die, we’ll be able to leave Earth knowing we lived as fully as we could, and that we were truly happy while we did.”

You shrug now, realising that they’re all staring at you and that you’ve babbled on for a good minute straight. Laughing to yourself, you stop rubbing Leo’s back, resting your arms on the railing. “Sorry. I sort of went off on one there. That’s how I like to look at it, anyway.”

It’s silent for a few heartbeats.

Finally, Alyn is the one to break the silence, drawling out, “Geez. ___ for president.”

Leo snorts. “More like ___ for queen.” He shakes his head, gazing down at you with wondrous, adoring eyes. “Honestly, ___, you could say one word and the whole nation would fall silent. You always know the most perfect things to say, and always say them so beautifully. It’s almost unfair.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliments. You immediately shake your head, logic refuting his point. “Not really. If I said one word, no one would take any notice. I’m just like everyone else.”

_Magnetic or not, I don’t have that sort of influence at all._

“Oh, really?” Robert hums out, coming to stand next to you. He takes your hand, raising it to his lips and kissing your thumb ring. “If that was true, why have you been able to tame crowds and calm masses of hysteria time and time again? Why do people listen to you, almost always, without question, so much? Why do those with ice around their hearts thaw and melt when they speak to you?”

_He’s singing my praises again, and thinking too highly of me again._

“Most of that’s probably because I’m an ICAC agent. People are most likely just scared of opposing me, like they would be with the police.” You counter. He grins, kissing your ring finger this time. Your stomach flutters pleasantly.

“___, you were doing all of this far before the point at which you joined the ICAC.” He responds gently. Your lips press together.

_Maybe I should ask them about this whole magnetism thing. I wonder if they’ve heard of it._

You turn to look at the clock tower again. It’s counting down from three minutes now, the huge numbers on each side of it ticking down with every second. “You all seem convinced of this. Have any of you heard of a magnetic personality?”

None of them respond for a second. You immediately sense that they know about it, or that at least a few of them do.

“Yep.” Sid finally answers behind you. You can feel his intense stare boring into the back of your head. “Why?”

Your fingers curl around Robert’s idly, winding through them, his warm skin lessening the coolness of your own. “I’ve been called it three times since September. I keep hearing it, and I had it explained to me on one of those occasions. You know, when the academy was breached, and I went outside just before it happened?”

At least Robert nods, he being the only one in your field of vision. “I went outside because Lyonette told me I had one and went through what it was. I couldn’t, and still can’t, wrap my head around it. It makes no sense.”

Robert tilts his head. “How so?”

You sigh softly, feeling Leo sidle up next to you, then take your other hand and bring it up to his mouth. Your eyes remain on the clock tower. “Because it’s not possible for someone to just attract people like that, and draw them in. It sounds like some sort of magic, or a gift or power. Things like that don’t happen.”

“Says who?”

The challenging words refute you, bluntly, from your left. You turn to Albert, watching him arch an eyebrow. “You have all the evidence you need. People naturally adore you, swarm to you and trust you. They love talking to you and are – to be frank – enchanted by you for the most part. Obviously, however, it does not happen with everyone. If it did, that would indicate it being some higher power like you mentioned. However, the fact that it isn’t perfect and doesn’t work on some people tells you that it’s real.”

You blink, frowning a bit. You don’t understand.

He exhales, seeming exasperated. “A magnetic personality draws people in, but will not do so, at least not in the same way and to the same extent, to those who harbour negative feelings toward you. It is not an untouchable attribute to have. An unearthly power, like you seem to be viewing it as, would enrapture everyone, regardless of their feelings, and force them to adore you, essentially. That is not something that happens.”

“As we have seen with Aubrey, and Alisanne, and Saber, and all of the other groups who have opposed us.” Byron elaborates, focused intently on you. You turn around, facing away from the clock tower, and Leo and Robert let your hands go so that they can now take the opposite ones, closest to them. Byron’s voice lowers. “And, as we have seen all too clearly with Gerald.”

Your chest aches, just a little. You swallow hard. “But it’s cruel, even to those who don’t hate me or dislike me. I’m pulling them into me without even wanting to, but then not caring about them or paying attention to them because I have no interest in them. How is that fair?”

Alyn crosses his arms now, grumbling, “___, stop overthinking this. What we’re saying is, yes, you have a magnetic personality. You have a natural talent – not a gift or a power – for drawing people into you. You have an effortless ability to influence those around you, in a good way, but those people are only affected by it so long as they want to be. If they want to hate you, they will. They might still feel that pull toward you, but they’ll still be cruel or bitter or spiteful. Everyone who’s attracted by your personality does so, essentially, by choice. They might not question it being a choice because they don’t want to be, but they’re not unable to resist you.”

Your thoughts grind to a halt.

_So… I’m not forcing people to like me? I’m not to blame. I’m not making people come close to me. They’re allowing themselves to be pulled in. If I had bad intentions and tried to pull people in, I’d be at fault, but I’m not. I’m just a point of attraction for those who want to pay attention to it._

Louis steps around Robert to come to halt before you, warm, gentle hands cupping your face. “What you are is in no way cruel, or unfair. You provide strength and happiness, comfort and relaxation, to those around you. You do it without even realising it or thinking about it, and that’s what makes people truly love being around you.

“To be around a human who gives so much, whilst also caring for their own life, but has no ulterior motive or reason for it, is beautiful and rare and something to be awed. Magnetic personalities in those with evil intent is something to be feared, because those people can manipulate and hurt others by using that natural pull on others. Yours, when it’s combined with a heart of gold and the mind of an angel, is nothing short of a miracle.”

Your throat tightens. You can’t help but think about this negatively, mind whirling to your last point of defence. “But, doesn’t that mean that people then only want to be with me and talk to me because of that magnetism? Not who I am in myself, both good and bad?”

He shakes his head. “The pull is what makes people want to know you. It makes them want to be close to you and learn more about you. It makes them want to understand you more deeply, and that’s where they then use their own free will entirely to make themselves a part of your life.”

_I’m not doing wrong. It’s not a bad thing. Magnetism can be dangerous, but isn’t, as long as I don’t use it against people. As long as I stay true to who I am and the way I want to live, I won’t be hurting people._

Your head drifts up and down, very slowly, eyes dropping to his chest. “Oh. I never thought of it like that.”

His lips dust a kiss against your forehead, before he then mumbles into your skin, “You are loved because of who you are, ___, but your magnetism does not define that. It only makes it that much easier, and that less painful, for others to bear their hearts to you and let you in.”

You’re certain your heart skips a beat.

“So… so, my… magnetism,” You make a face. It feels weird to say it like that. “Is what made you all let me in?”

Louis ponders this for a moment, then shrugs. “I don’t think so. It might have sped up the process slightly. But, it was what you did, and what you showed me, at least, that made me truly open up to you. I don’t think it  _made_  me let you in at all.”

Alyn nods. “It wasn’t what made me let you in. The only thing that did was seeing you prove yourself to me and Leo over and over again because I’m a stubborn prick. The magnetism made me get the gut feeling that I could trust you and rely on you, but I let you in for your actions, not that pull.”

_Without the magnetism, really, it would have been harder to get them to trust me, and let me help them. Even still, though, it was all me that actually made them open up, in the end._

It’s a simple realisation, but it’s still baffling.

A tiny little smile tugs at your lips. “What the hell…” Your eyes close for a moment, just briefly, and then you breathe out, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m like this, then. Maybe I can finally stop feeling guilty for being who I am, now.”

There’s a roar from the crowds in the town square, and near the palace. You turn once more, Leo and Robert switching hands a last time. The countdown nears sixty seconds, and you glance at Leo, asking, “Are you going to get a group selfie like you did last year?”

His phone’s already halfway out of his pocket, produced with a selfie stick hidden in his inside pocket. He grins. “Yep.”

With that, he lets go of your hand, starting to drag the boys into height order, positioning them all so everyone will be seen. With you at the centre, Nico and Louis on either side of you, and the rest of the boys huddled around in simultaneous exasperation, Leo stands at the front and raises his phone. Its camera is at the ready, the device now supported by the selfie stick.

“Okay! Alyn, look miserable or annoyed as usual! Albert, look murderous as usual! Byron, look emotionless as usual-” You smack him over the back of the head, to which he cringes, apologising, “Sorry, sorry, fine. Smile, fam!”

Despite the group’s synchronised desire to whack him as well, you all manage to do as he says. You grin, Nico beaming next to you, while Louis smiles softly on your other side. In the phone, you see Giles and Byron smiling coolly, Albert and Alyn doing so sarcastically, and Sid smirking away while Robert grins gorgeously with Leo.

Said Crawford takes a few pictures, hooting and calling, “Hey, Lucian! Bring everyone over, so we can have a full fam picture!”

You laugh at that, hearing Lucian approaching with your mum, Xander and Tobias. Leo extends the stick further, moving to the side, before tugging Nico and Louis over to him. “Okay, you guys get in with ___ at the front, since you’re blood relatives and I’m not an asshole. Quick!”

They all rush over, conscious that there’s only thirty seconds left. Lucian and your mum stand behind you, while Xander and Tobias get in on either side of you, both hooking their arms around your middle. You grin, doing the same with their necks. Leo cheers, ordering again, “Beautiful! Three, two, one, smile!”

Everyone does, and he takes a few more, beaming away. “Gorgeous. We’re all stunning!” He offers you his hand now, asking, “Will the princess join me in a video at the moment of the New Year?”

You howl with laughter, nodding and taking his hand. He pulls you over to the railing, hugging you into his side and raising the stick again. Behind you is Wysteria, the clock tower visible in the phone, counting down the last ten seconds. He starts to record, and you both shout out the numbers as it does. “Ten, nine, eight-”

“Photobomb!” Nico screams all of a sudden, bounding over with Sid, Xander and Tobias. They all shove into the video, counting down as well. Before you know it, everyone’s joined in, sprinting over and forcing their way in. There’s three seconds left by the time you’re all in the video, and you all count down together. “Three! Two! One!”

The fireworks boom out from the clock tower, and there’s a cheer that resounds from the whole region, echoing in the air around you. You scream with your family, crying out, “Happy New Year!”

Leo stops recording at this point, and everyone turns to watch the fireworks. They paint the sky in an array of beautiful colours, combined with music and timed to the beat of it. From your position so high up, it’s breath-taking to watch, and you all stare in awe as the sky is filled with beautiful explosions of colour. Your heart is hammering, elation and joy and complete contentedness filling your entire body.

Your beaming smile never once leaves, and the boys are exactly the same. As you’re hugged and cuddled and kissed on the face and head and hands by your boys, one thought remains in your mind.

_I’m ready for the next year. Bring it on. We’ve got a wedding, exams, and our futures to deal with, but that’s okay. As long as I have my family, as long as I have my soulmates, I can take on the world… no matter what it throws my way._

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	12. Part XII | Recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**1 st January 2017 | New Year’s Day | Christmas Holidays, College Year 2**

 The next night, you go with the boys back to Stein, deciding to spend the remainder of the holiday there.

By the time you all get in and have put all of your things in your rooms, it’s late at night and you’re all shattered, so you head straight to bed. The boys fight over who’s going to cuddle you, and Alyn and Leo end up winning, succeeding in dragging you to their side of the bed and anchoring themselves around you until the others back off.

In the morning when you come around, though, only Leo is there.

Waking up, you become vaguely aware that you’re laying top his body. Unbelievably warm but still comfortably so, you feel his chest under your hands, heartbeat thumping steady and strong, maybe just a little faster than the average. His addictive scent envelops you, leaving you blissfully at ease and settled, content in his arms. One of his hands is stroking your hair, very gently, very tenderly, fingers brushing over the strands soothingly. The other traces over your ribs under your vest, grazing over the flesh of your side with a feather-light, almost ticklish touch. His lips rest against the crown of your head, soft, paced breaths wafting over your scalp.

You’re so happy. You love waking up with them.

You shift against him, nudging your form up higher. He chuckles quietly, tugging you up a little, so that your face is nuzzled into the crook of his neck. His lips find your ear, pursing against the lobe, kissing with barely any pressure. You wonder how long he’s been awake for, and what time it is.

“Mm…” A soft sound leaves your throat, and when you speak, your voice vibrates out quietly, lulled into a sweet, sleepy murmur. “Leo…”

You can feel his smile against your hair instantly, can feel the adoration he’s watching you with. “Good morning, Baby. Has the princess finally awoken?” He asks quietly, tone gentle. You shake your head as much as you can, body lethargic with your deep sleep, before mumbling,

“Morning. I’m not awake yet.” He laughs again, but it’s kind. The hand stroking your hair continues to do so, while the other now trails up and down your ribs, ascending and descending, up and down, again and again. You practically purr at the pleasant warmth his touch provides you with.

“Well then, the princess will have to stay in bed, won’t she?” He surmises. You grin just a little, humming out,

“True. But, I’m really hungry. Are you?” You sigh out in return, shivering, as his lips trail down your cheek to your jaw.

“I’m hungry, but I don’t necessarily need food to keep me going.”

_Oh, geez. Prepare yourself._

Your insides twist and clench pleasantly, body and mind both eager to see what he means by that. You bury your face in his neck, swallowing hard, before licking your slightly dry lips. “What else could keep you sustained?”

His arms tighten around you. His teeth ghost over your jaw, and you shudder, gripping his shirt. “You.”

With that, he flips you over, draping you back against the mattress with a careful amount of force. Your arms anchor around his throat, coaxing him closer to you, as his lips find yours.

He kisses you with that absolute adoration and love, but is still ever so sweet, melting you instantly. Your fingers graze up his nape to his head, drawing a strong quake from his body, shuddering above you with pleasure. This only intensifies when you grip his hair with cautious, controlled power, and he groans softly into the kiss in response.

“Princess. Baby. ___…” His hands settle on your waist and one of your thighs, the latter grasping and palming at the soft flesh.

You mewl into the kiss, limbs trembling with the pleasure he’s giving you. This only drives him to do more.

The hand slides up, caressing the skin of your bare leg, shorts exposing it up to your mid-thigh. It keeps going, past your shorts to your side, where he lifts your torso up, bringing your abdomen and pelvis flush against his own. Heat flushes through you, and your other leg rises, locking around his waist. Your lower back arches up, keeping your stomach pressed deliciously against his own. He practically growls into your mouth, teeth catching your lower lip, nipping at it.

Pleasure wracks through you, flitting up and down your spine. Your fingers tug at his hair again, and he releases your lip, trembling above you.

The momentary break in the kiss lets you think, thankfully.

_We’re in a common area. We can’t do this here._

When he dips his head again, your fingers settle against his mouth. Your eyes open just as his do the same, lidded with love and desire, but also marginal confusion. You pant beneath him, your own gaze no doubt similar to his, intense with love and passion, but manage to gasp out, “Common area. Not here, Leo.”

The look of very mild devastation that ghosts over his expression makes your heart ache, but you know it’s the right thing to do.

Even if he were your only boyfriend, in any situation, this still wouldn’t be fair on the others.

His eyelids drift closed, and he inhales deeply, seeming to be attempting to bring himself under control once more. He nuzzles his mouth into your fingers while he does, and you take a moment to breathe yourself, calming your stimulated body. His fingers grip your thigh very briefly, then release it, the attached hand coming to rest beside you. He heaves out a heavy sigh, lowering his body down so he’s lying on top of you, face dropping against your collarbone.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got so much control, Princess.” He mumbles into your skin. You move your hand, instead embracing his head, feeling his lips, hot and soft, just above the curve of your breast. “I don’t know if I would have been able to stop myself, for any reason, if you hadn’t told me to.”

You stroke his hair lovingly, uttering remorsefully, “Trust me, it was almost impossible for me as well. I didn’t want to stop you in the slightest.” He smiles just a bit, seeming very comfy and content with his head on your chest. You gaze down at him, brushing a hand over his cheek. “Before we end up in the same position, should we go and get breakfast?”

He hums, the sound reverberating out from deep within his chest. “Yeah. I was thinking about going for a swim this morning, too. Fancy coming with me?”

You beam, nodding. “I’d love to.”

He seems relieved at your response, smile widening. “Good. Are you sure you’re okay to swim, with everything that happened with Alisanne and Saber?”

You ponder this for a few moments, head drifting up and down. “I think I’ll be fine.” You muse, tone thoughtful. “I mean, it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but I’ve pretty much forgotten about it now. It doesn’t matter anymore – they’re both gone and can’t hurt us anymore. They don’t deserve my brain cells.”

He chuckles at that. “Agreed.”

He lifts his head, then heaves himself up and off you before tucking his arms around your middle. He lifts you up, so you’ve got a knee on either side of him, before he grins and slides off the bed. Your legs wrap around his hips, arms doing the same with his neck, and you giggle as he starts to walk out of the room with you clinging to him. You drop your chin on top of his shoulder. “Is this a thing, now?”

“Yep.” He answers, masterfully descending the stairs with you. It’s silent in the entrance and hallway to the kitchen, you see. “You’re now my Baby Koala Bear Princess ___.”

Another giggle bursts out of you. “Right. I’ve never been called a koala bear before. I hear they’re vicious.”

You nibble very lightly and playfully on his shoulder, to which he howls with laughter, entering the kitchen. It’s empty in there as well, but you heard noise from the living room as you went past, so you assume at least some of the boys are in there. Sunlight streams in through the window, telling you it’s early morning or noon, and this is only confirmed when you look at the clock. It’s twenty to twelve.

Leo sits you down on the counter, pecking your forehead, before asking, “What would you like for breakfast, Milady?”

Another chuckle bubbles out of you. “Ah, another nickname I’d forgotten about. I’m guessing you’re not going to let me help make anything?”

He shakes his head, retrieving some eggs from the cupboard. “Nope. I’m doing everything while you sit there, relax and marvel at my culinary prowess.” You stifle a laugh, seeing his mock-panicked expression, as if he’s severely doubting his abilities. “So, what would you like?”

You ponder for a few minutes, finally deciding. You tell him what you want, to which he nods, getting out the relevant things for making it. You study his peaceful expression and soft smile as he gets to work cooking, feeling a little flutter in your stomach while you do. He’s so beautiful, even just doing simple things like this.

It’s comfortably silent for a while. When he’s nearly finished, you slide off the counter, seeing his back turned. Wanting to tease him a bit, you creep up behind him, so quietly that he doesn’t hear you at all. He jumps a bit when you hug him from behind, resting your face in the space between his shoulder blades, before he laughs out, “You okay there, Princess?”

You nod, humming out, “Perfect. I just wanted a hug.” You can see him blushing, very, very slightly, and notice that the tips of his ears are a bit pink as well. You end up grinning beatifically, cooing, “Aw, Leo. Are you blushing?”

His heartbeat quickens, thumping harder, able to be heard with the way your ear is now settled against his back. He exhales shakily, a lilt close to seduction dripping into his words and voice when he responds huskily, “Princess, if you keep teasing me like this, I  _will_  end up abandoning the food and having you for breakfast.”

Your lips press together, pulse jumping with excitement. He dishes up the breakfast and puts the things to be washed in the sink, then spins around in your arms. He leans down swiftly, locking his arms against the back of your thighs, then lifting you up. He kisses you ardently, with a barely-restrained, smouldering intensity that could burn you.

The danger of him doing so in a common area sets your nerves on edge, and you grip his shoulders hard, hearing him whisper into the kiss, “And I’ll have you, right here and right now. Screw the rules.”

Oh, dear. You practically melt into a puddle of mush and lust as soon as he speaks the words.

Thankfully, though, he stops after a moment, settling you in one of the chairs of the island counter. He slips into the one next to you, bringing your breakfasts over. Both of you blushing by this point, he sighs, breathing out adoringly, “I swear, Princess. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d have to kill you.” You duck your head, his lips hovering near the shell of your ear. “Or, at least, I’d have to punish you for being so naughty like that.”

For the rest of breakfast, your skin is crimson.

Once you’re both finished, you head into the living room, where Byron, Nico, Giles, Louis, Robert and Sid are all sitting, watching the news and talking amongst themselves. You let them know you’re both going for a swim, something they approve, with Sid pondering joining in at some point. Alyn and Albert are out riding the horses, they inform you.

Done with this, you go and get dressed in your new swimming costume. It’s in your favourite colour, and is one-shouldered. It’s a one-piece, with material wrapping around your body in a strip pattern, leaving two segments of your stomach bare but covered by mesh material. You do your hair how you prefer it for swimming, then throw on your white kaftan dress and put some gladiators on as well.

Retrieving your towel, you make your way out of your room, Leo already waiting there in shorts and a shirt with flip flops. He makes a point of complimenting you relentlessly while you go downstairs, then outside.

As you go out hand-in-hand, you see Albert and Alyn racing each other on two of the horses, shouting what sound like insults to one another over the pounding of the horses’ hooves. You and Leo watch them with identical smiles, heading over to the building with the swimming pool and jacuzzi. When they reach the end of the field, Albert seemingly winning with his notoriously fast horse, Maverick, they both look over in your direction. You give them a wave with the hand holding your towel, and then Alyn’s calling over, asking,

“Are you going swimming?” You nod, hollering in return,

“Yeah!” You see him nod back, Albert doing the same.

You’re at the building now, and Leo unlocks it with Byron’s keys, the latter having given them to him when you told him you wanted to swim. Giving the boys another wave, you head inside with Leo. You both turn the lights on, finding the pool already uncovered and most likely heated. You imagine the butler who works for Byron might have had something to do with that.

You find yourself grinning, excited at the thought of swimming, and swimming with Leo in particular. Your hands swing together as you walk over to the side, before finally separating so you can both take your outer clothes off. Shrugging off your gladiators and kaftan, you wander over to the edge of the pool, crouching down and testing the temperature. It’s not quite warm, but not at all cool or cold, either. You guess it’s probably 27 or 28 degrees Celsius, since any higher would encourage bacteria growth, but it’s not chilled enough to be much lower.

Sighing contentedly, you stand and rotate around to Leo. He approaches you, now bare-chested and in his shorts, gaze soft but impish and lips curled into a teasing smile. Your heart flutters just a little, a beaming smile of your own forming when he slides his arms around you, embracing you against his chest. Your hands settle on his stomach very lightly, and you almost tremble at the warmth exuding from his skin.

His face dips down, lips nuzzling your cheek affectionately. A hum purrs out of him lowly, drawing a shiver from you. “I’m so happy. I get you all to myself.” He kisses along your cheekbone to your ear, where he whispers very softly, “Hey. Want to help make one of your boyfriends’ dream come true?”

Your curiosity spikes, and instantly, you want to do it. Your hands graze up his abdomen to his chest, then his shoulders and finally around his neck. He shivers, tightening his grip on you. Your eyes flutter shut as he kisses the space under your ear, at the end of your jaw. “Yeah. What is it?”

Another, deeper kiss. Your knees weaken just a little. “I’ve always wanted to kiss my girlfriend underwater.”

Your heart thumps harder at the thought of both the kiss, but at the danger of doing so. “Leo, we’re in a common area. We can’t-”

He silences your protest, lips pressing against yours in an unexpectedly gentle, tender touch. It’s fleeting, only for a second, and then he’s pulling back to drop his forehead against yours. Your eyelids drift open halfway. “Please? We’ll be fine – everyone else is occupied. The only one who would possibly come in would be Sid, and he wouldn’t mind walking in on it as long as he got to have a turn as well.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, embarrassment at his honest words practically flooding you. You duck your head, exclaiming, “Leo!”

He laughs heartily, rubbing your back soothingly. “Hey, it’s a good thing. It’s better than him tearing my throat out upon seeing me with you, right?” You can’t argue against that. You simply opt to huff, expression disgruntled. He shakes his head. “I swear, it’ll be fine. We’ll stay close to the edge so we can get out quickly if someone comes, okay?”

You could try and fight him more, but you don’t think it’ll really get you anywhere. You don’t actually want to fight him. In truth, you really want to try it.

“Okay.” You breathe out, nodding. He kisses your forehead lovingly, singing out,

“I have the best girlfriend in the world. Thank you, Princess.” You can’t help but grin, granted rolling your eyes at the same time.

Without warning, he hooks his arms under your bum, against the back of your thighs, to lift you up against him. You squeak, clinging onto his throat for balance, to which he chuckles before starting to approach the pool. “Hang on tight, Baby Koala Bear Princess. Take a deep breath!”

You shake your head, stunned by his nonchalant attitude, but do as he says. You hold your breath after inhaling deeply, and he does the same.

Wasting no time at all, he jumps forward. Gravity sends you both crashing down fast, hitting the water in a second.

The first thing you register is that the water is pleasant, just a bit warm, enough to be comfortable. The second thing is that, when you open your eyes and blink through the initial stinging pain, Leo has opened his as well, and is watching you with an intense, desiring gaze. Your legs hook around his hips as you both sink down in the water, your combined weight outmatching the buoyancy of the air inside you. He tugs you flush against him, stomach and chests joined entirely.

Your eyes close once more, face diving in to his. He leans up, eyes fluttering shut.

It’s a strange sensation, knowing that if you open your mouth at all, you’re probably going to choke and need to surface immediately. As you crush your lips against Leo’s, though, you realise that he’s essentially keeping you alive, and you him, through the kiss. You’re sealing his mouth shut, stopping him from releasing that vital oxygen. The pleasure wracking through you from such an odd but wonderful feeling is intense, and you kiss him harder as a result, breathing out through your nose just enough to ease the pressure increasing in your chest.

_I love you._

It’s irrefutable. You know this is what you want.

_I want this with all of them. I want their love._

The bliss and peace that settles inside you would be breath-taking, if not for the water threatening your life around you.

Suddenly, that perfect, hazy bubble is popped. Violently.

A hand suddenly shoots through the water, darting down to where you and Leo are floating, roughly halfway down the pool’s depth. Your eyes fly open, the sound distracting you. You watch in shock as it grabs your upper arm hard, grip iron-like and impossible to fight under water. Your lips break away from Leo’s, body forcing you to take in an involuntary breath in response to the sudden threat it’s perceiving. Water floods into your mouth, choking you.

Before you can even begin to panic, you’re dragged up, then hauled to the surface of the water. Someone yanks your body out, laying you down on your front on the stone side. You cough and splutter, hacking up the water that managed to get in in just those few seconds. A hot hand rubs your back, the other still grasping your arm with a steely grip.

_What the hell…_

You hear Leo surface, gasping in a breath, before he roars, “Have you completely lost it? What the fuck was that? You could have killed her!”

There’s a growl above you, devastatingly familiar.

_Alyn._

“I’m  _saving_  her damn life, idiot! Do you realise how fucking dangerous that is? She could have drowned! If you want to play Russian Roulette with your life, fine, but don’t goddamn drag her into it!” The russet-haired male snaps back, voice hostile and threatening. You press your head against the stone, airways nearly clear, and then cringe when he yells, “And you shouldn’t have done it anyway, asshole – this is a common area. You’re not permitted in the slightest to touch her like that here!”

_Shit… shit. Shit, shit, shit! Not Alyn. Alyn’s the one person who hates seeing others touching me the most. He’s the most likely to explode from something like this._

Your heartbeat falters.

_And he’s going to take out the whole group if he does._

You jerk up, panic overtaking your senses. Eyes opening, you swipe away the water from them, gaze whirling up to his face. He’s livid, you see, kneeling next to you in his swimming shorts, bare-chested. He looks down when you move, curling his arms around you and tugging you against his chest. You push back around his hold, looking him in the eye. “Alyn, stop. I’m sorry. I know we shouldn’t have done that and that it was wrong on every level. I’m so sorry. Please, just calm down.”

He scowls, crushing you against him completely and glaring at Leo over your head. “Don’t goddamn apologise. Don’t you dare. I’d bet my life it was all him. Am I right?”

You shake your head, squirming fruitlessly in his iron hold. “No! He asked me if he could do it and I said yes – I thought everyone else was doing something, and so that we’d be safe!”

He grunts, applying just a bit more force to stifle your attempts at sitting up. You can feel him shaking, vibrating and trembling with fury around you. “Yeah, so you let him, but he shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t have offered it at all, so it’s still his fault!”

“Alyn, please, calm-” You don’t get to finish your plea. Leo’s voice cuts through it, borderline hostile.

“What are you going to do then, Alyn? What are you going to do to punish me for breaking the rules, when I know you’ve already broken them yourself a few times?” You can feel his glare now, and it almost scares you, since you’re right in the firing line of it and it’s intense as hell on a hot day.

“We’ve all broken or bent the rules, Alyn. If we live to them word for word, and to every single letter, we’d all be fighting each other every day just to have her with us and take her away from everyone else. So, tell me, what now? What’s your plan? What’s the chivalrous knight who just ‘saved’ his princess by making her choke, when she was actually safer with me, going to do to his evil brother for touching her?”

Alyn shudders with rage. You brace yourself for a screaming match, squeezing your eyes shut to hide the terror in them. You’re near hysterical, panicking and hurting, because they could end up splitting from each other from this. You could lose them both because you failed to say no.

The pain on your face is clear. And it’s not something that Alyn, nor Leo, miss.

For a long few heartbeats, it’s silent. Alyn remains kneeling, cradling you in his arms, quivering with anger, while Leo glares up at him from the water. Your fingers curl into fists.

_Please, don’t leave. Don’t give this up because of one mistake._

Finally, Alyn speaks.

“I’m going to make you hurt just as much as I did when I walked in here and saw you just now. You’re going to watch. I’m not one for revenge, but I really couldn’t care less at the moment. I won’t hurt her because of your idiocy.”

He lurches up, to his feet, with you in his arms. His eyes snap to you, yours now open and wide with confusion. “Hold your breath, Princess. Now.”

He’s deadly serious. You do it in a heartbeat, and not a second too soon.

He does the same, then tightens his grip on you and launches himself into the water.

You barely have any clue of what’s going on by this point and cling onto Alyn for dear life, eyes closed again. His hand slides up to your head, cupping the back of it and tilting your face back, as you’re both submerged and sink deeper.

The next thing you know, he’s kissing you, hard, deep, with passion and with an almost competitive fire you’ve never felt from him before. You squeak against his mouth, but he only holds you there tighter, preventing you from letting your breath out. With no choice but to comply, you force yourself to relax, letting him kiss you.

You can’t bear to look at Leo, but you can’t bear to hurt Alyn. You start to kiss him back.

You feel vibrations and movement in the water near you, then behind you. Arms anchor around your waist, and you almost expect Leo to yank you out of Alyn’s grip like the latter did to him. He doesn’t; instead, his lips attach themselves to your spine at the base of your head, kissing and sucking on the flesh near-aggressively. Your body shudders, pleasure ravaging your every nerve, sense and muscle.

Alyn growls against your mouth, the hand not on your head now gripping at your hip. He tugs your lower body closer, ending up with your legs locking around his waist. You feel Leo’s teeth sink into the sensitive flesh covering your upper spine, just shy of your hairline, and the last of your air leaves you in a muffled moan, shudders flitting up and down your back violently. They both seem to realise that you’re running out of air. They push up at the same time, kicking hard.

You all break through the surface of the water. You gasp and pant, sucking in deep mouthfuls of precious oxygen.

But they’re not done yet, apparently. Oh, they’re not even close.

They both support you, body suspended between them. Alyn’s teeth descend on your collarbone, jealousy driving him to abandon the control he usually clings to when he’s intimate with you. Leo’s arms are bound around your waist so tightly, almost constricting you, his lips fixed to your neck. Alyn paints your collarbone with cautious but delicious bites and nips, while Leo dusts your nape with kisses. The pleasure from being touched by them both at once is overwhelming, but it’s not unwelcome, not in the slightest.

It’s your guilty pleasure. They’re you’re guilty pleasure. There isn’t a limit to your love; no matter how many of them touch you, you never want them to stop.

“Princess…” Alyn sighs out hotly, the word heaved out with intense need, sending a violent tremor rattling through you. Leo sucks the flesh in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and your head drops back, spine arching from the sensations assaulting your body.

“___.” Leo mumbles into your flesh, caressing your name with love and adoration.

They submerge you once more. You don’t surface again for a long time.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

Two hours later, you stand stiffly, hands braced on either side of your desk.

Before you is your laptop, currently displaying before you your attempt at understanding your boyfriends’ minds a little bit better. Robert’s graphics tablet sits in front of the laptop, its pen secured between your fingers. You tap it against the wood restlessly, eyebrows furrowed, lips set in a tight line. Your teeth find your tongue and bite down with considerable force, the action habitual and automatic, triggered by your increasing frustration.

The taps get harder. The frown deepens.

Finally, you shove back, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“Gah!” You exclaim, glaring at the screen. “Why? Why is this so hard?”

The source of your frustration is the current situation with the boys. The boys, more specifically, and their levels of jealousy with one another.

You see, some of them really don’t mind seeing others touch you, while some are practically nudged to the brink of homicide if they so much as see one of the others hug you for more than ten seconds. Some can tolerate it, but are uncomfortable. Some are tolerant and comfortable.

And, of course, that’s only a problem because there are nine of them. There are nine of them, and so there are forty-nine potential combinations between them all that you need to remember  _and_  cater for.

You heave out a frustrated sigh and bend over again, elbows settling on the desk while your chin drops into your palms. Your eyebrow twitches, and you look over what you’ve got, collated from months of time with the boys and watching them interact with each other when these instances have happened.

Alyn immediately appears intolerant of the others touching you. However, as he displayed with Leo not two hours ago, when he practically bit the hell out of your chest and kissed you straight into heaven with Leo doing the same with your neck, he apparently  _can_  tolerate it. It seems like he’ll get really annoyed, but then become so competitive that he can look past it and just join the other person in touching you.

Leo, on the other hand, is quite relaxed with it all. From your experiences, the only people he will become competitive with are Alyn and Giles, and then with the others, he’ll just act like normal. In particular, he seems to have a ton of fun teasing you with Sid and Nico, sometimes to points wherein things become very, very close to wandering over the border into breaking-the-rules land.

Giles will get competitive with Alyn and Leo, but also Sid, depending on his mood and how much Sid provokes him. He otherwise doesn’t seem to mind sharing with the others, and actually takes delight in teasing you until you’re a tomato with Robert.

Said male also appears to be quite chilled about the whole thing. In particular, he’s very relaxed with watching you with Byron, Giles, Leo and Nico, as well as Louis. He seems slightly wary around Alyn and Albert, and is less so but still not entirely comfortable with Sid.

Sid will get annoyed at Alyn or Albert getting involved, but isn’t actually opposed to touching you with either of them. He’ll more just get more aggressive and possessive, trying to beat the other down or drawn the most reaction from you himself. As for Giles, he gets a kick out of getting on his nerves, but doesn’t mind sharing with him when it comes down to it. He has no problem at all in sharing with Leo and Nico, nor with Byron or Robert, though things tend to get a little bit… heavy with those two. If Louis’ with Sid, and neither of them back down, he’ll continue but in a much more provocative way. Half of him seems to just want to rile Louis up more.

Louis, although hating Sid’s guts and wanting nothing to do with him, won’t always remove either himself or you from the situation if he’s around. If Sid pushes far enough fast enough, Louis will get territorial and be willing to do pretty much anything to beat Sid, although he might not be happy about it, and will be embarrassed as hell in the process. With the others, he’s different; if it’s Leo, Nico, Robert or Giles, he has very little problem with sharing, although he will strive to gain the most reactions from you because he’s quite prone to jealousy. He’s wary of Albert, but surprisingly comfortable with Alyn and Byron, and enjoys teasing you with the latter two.

Byron is probably just a bit too calm about the whole thing, similar to Robert. As long as he’s actively engaging in making you happy and, in these circumstances, feel good – although in a non-sexual manner – he’s not too bothered about who he’s with. He’s naturally a bit less comfortable with the likes of Alyn, since he doesn’t converse with him as much as the others, but he’ll still be willing to share with him.

Nico is competitive with everyone, and relaxed with everyone, but to different extents. He’s more relaxed with Byron, Albert, Leo and Sid, but more competitive with Albert, Giles, Louis and Alyn.

Finally, Albert is pretty much only comfortable with sharing with Byron and Nico, and the latter is a stretch, it only being viable if Nico’s distracted and not paying attention to him. He’s much more shy, so he’s less willing to do anything with you while in the presence of the others, although you imagine he might do so with Robert if the situation called for it.

You moan, squishing your face into your hands. “Why is this so complicated?”

Before you can give a bitter, cynical answer to your own question, your phone vibrates on the desk, lighting up. You peer down at it through your fingers.

“Bride-To-Be Creator”

Your hairs prickle.

It’s your mum. Everyone gets scared when their mothers call.

You swipe the phone, gripping the tablet’s pen hard, before answering it to some degree nervously. “Hello?”

“___? Thank God! Listen to me carefully, okay?”

Your insides tense, clenching and twisting. Fear pours through you like acid.

_What’s happened?_

“What? What is it? Are you okay? Are dad and the boys-” You try to get a grip on what’s happening, but she interrupts you before you can finish.

“Ssh! Let me speak, woman! This is important, but not life-threatening. Don’t panic quite yet.” You press your lips together, staying silent. She heaves out a heavy breath. “Okay. ___, a courier from Wysteria Palace just came to our house looking for you. He’s got some box for you, a delivery apparently in your name, but he can’t give it to anyone but you yourself. Don’t start asking questions yet.”

You’re about ready to drop, terrified. Why would the palace want you? What could you have done that warrants attention from the highest authority in Wysteria. Your legs tremble, but you force yourself to stay quiet. Your mum continues swiftly.

“Before you freak out, it’s nothing bad. He told me it’s a good thing, but that he’s only permitted to give whatever it is to you personally, to ensure that the information is delivered to you correctly. He said he needed to deliver it today and asked where you were, so I said you were in Stein. I then offered to ask you to come down, but he said not to. Instead, he asked for your location, and he’s coming all the way from here to Stein right now, to bring you the it.”

Your body may as well drain of blood.

_He’s coming here? What about the security team? Surely, they’re not just going to let some randomer from Wysteria Palace waltz into the manor without wanting to interrogate him!_

“So, he should be there in roughly and hour and fifty minutes. Make sure you’re dressed presentably, and be ready to talk to him when he gets there – the boys won’t be able to help you with this one very much when it comes to speaking to him, I imagine. Remember to be careful with what you say, especially if he asks anything about why you’re there in Byron’s house. Okay?”

You’ve got your orders. You’re petrified to carry them through, but you’ve got them. You glance down at your vest and shorts, swallowing hard. “Okay. I need to go and get changed.”

She makes a sound of agreement. “Good. Stay calm, sweetie, okay? You’ll be fine. If it was something bad, they would have made it obvious and not been so relaxed about it. Explain what’s going on to the boys – they’ll help you through it. Go and get changed, ___. Call me as soon as you know what’s going on. I love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll call you later.” You respond, hanging up.

As soon as she’s gone, you go into full-on hysterics.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. What the hell… shit. Shit. Shit!” You put your pen on the desk, keeping your phone with you, and bolt to the door.

Swinging it open, you dart straight for the door to the stairs, all but flying down them. You sprint across the entrance, and by the time you launch yourself into the living room, your heart’s pounding away, hair wind-swept and cheeks flushed.

All of the boys are sat in there, chatting to each other, while Nico, Leo, Sid and Alyn play on the Xbox. However, when they all heard your laboured breathing and frantic steps, they whip around, the four abandoning their game.

Robert, the closest to the door, immediately stands, lurching over to you with concern clear on his face. “___? What is it? What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

When he reaches you, cupping your face, your fingers grasp his wrists hard, trembling with adrenaline. You shake your head. “No. I’m panicking. I- I’m so confused. I- my mum just-”

Robert hushes you, holding your face harder. “___. Princess. Treasure. Breathe. Talk to me. Think about what you’re saying – explain what’s happened so we can help you.”

His words help to calm you. The others are on their feet by this point, and have all gathered around you, watching on with blatant worry, caution, wariness or tension. You swallow hard, trying to get across everything your mum just said.

“My mum just rang me. A courier from Wysteria Palace was at my house asking for me, apparently with a box or something. He needs to give it to me personally, so he couldn’t give it to her, and when she told him I was here he said he’d bring it to be right now. She told him our address, and he’s now driving up to Stein to give me whatever it is.”

They all remain silent, shock clear on their features. You shake your head again. “I- I mean, what did I do? Why would they need to talk to me? He said it was nothing bad, apparently, but why would they need to speak to me in person? If it’s from the palace, who the hell is interested in a common girl? I’m part of the ICAC, yeah, so that gives me a slightly elevated social position, but it’s nothing major. There’s no reason-”

Robert’s thumb clamps down on your mouth, silencing you. His amber eyes bore into your own, intensely focused and now completely controlled. “Enough, ___. Calm down. You’re fine, and you’re going to be completely fine after he comes. If it’s nothing bad, there’s nothing to fear. You need to get dressed if it’s someone from the palace – come. Let’s find you something to wear.”

Without even consulting the others, he takes your hand, gripping it tightly, before tugging you back into the entrance. You can only follow him, actually quite grateful for him taking control and supporting you so quickly, as he hurries upstairs. He takes you into your room and closes the door behind him, making his way over to your wardrobe with you.

“Do you want to wear a dress, or jeans?” He asks, sifting through your clothes. You blink, barely able to process the question.

“Er… I… a dress. If he’s from the palace, I don’t want to be too casual.” You force yourself to respond. He nods, fingering through your dresses, eyes trained on them with frightening intent.

“I agree. However, it’s winter, so it would look slightly silly to be wearing a more summer-oriented one. As such,” He suddenly picks up a hanger, producing a sweater dress that you’d almost forgotten about. It’s white and woollen, appropriate for the cold weather, and has long sleeves, the end of the dress reaching your mid-thighs. “Wear this. It’s not too casual but not overly formal, since it’d probably look just as strange if you opened the door looking ready to attend a party. Put that on while I find you some shoes.”

You take the dress, watching him go to the French doors and draw the curtains while you change. You feel extremely strange – he’s going to be in the same room while you get dressed.

He turns back, apparently feeling your eyes on him, before he smiles gently and assures you, “___, I’m not going to look, I swear it. I’m would never disrespect you like that – I’m going to be looking inside your bed for your shoes while you change.”

“N-No! I didn’t think you would. I just… I’ve never changed in the same room as any of you before. It’s just… strange.” You admit, cheeks dusted with a rosy hue again. His expression softens upon noticing this, and he approaches you before reaching out, stroking your hair back and away from your face. Leaning down, he kisses your forehead softly, murmuring,

“It is strange. I would hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, just for the sake of time.” You shake your head immediately; you’re really not opposed to it at all. He laughs quietly. “Good. Then, go on and change. I promise, I won’t look.”

With that, he goes over to your bed, opening the ottoman part up and revealing your shoes inside. You exhale gradually, trying to ignore the nervousness that remains, before you slip out of your vest and shorts. You throw the dress over you, feeling it sit and shape around your form nicely, before tugging at the sleeves and shoulders, fixing it in place.

You peer into your wardrobe again, deciding that it’ll probably be wise to wear a belt to finish it off. You find one in your favourite colour, one where the material is threaded through a silver loop and so fits any size. You loop it around your waist, keeping the excess held up with the attached band, before making the dress a bit looser above the belt.

“Are you done, ___?” Robert asks. You nod, responding,

“Yeah.” He nods, standing up and turning around. He has a pair of your boots in his hands, ones that are thigh-high and black with flat bottoms. He guides you over to the bed, sitting you down.

And then, he lowers himself onto one knee. Your mind flashes back to when Albert did this, in the days leading up to the boys confessing to you. “Robert?”

He grins, just a little impishly. He tugs your socks up, they having slid down just a bit before he gently lifts one of your legs up and rests your foot on his thigh. You can’t take your eyes off him, watching him cox your foot into the boot, then slide it up and onto your leg. “I’ve seen Albert do this from time to time, and I’ll be honest – it makes me just a little bit envious. I hope you don’t mind me stealing his thunder just this once.”

You shake your head, trying not to shiver, moan or tremble at the feeling of his hand holding the outer side of your thigh. He finishes putting the boot on, zipping it up, before moving onto the next foot. “I don’t mind. It just… um… took me by surprise.” You duck your head, mumbling, feeling oddly shy after changing so close to him, “Thank you, Robert. You’re amazing, keeping a cool head, and making me at least try to have a cool head, when things happen.”

He just laughs again, shaking his own head. With the boots pulled up to your thigh, only a small segment of skin modestly shown between them and your dress, he fastens the second one, then takes your hands and squeezes them gently.

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad to have been of assistance, ___. You know I’ll do anything to help you.” He kisses both of your knuckles before standing, easing you up with him. He runs his thumb over your rings, both having been either gifts from the boys or something you got with the boys. “We all are. We’re with you, Princess, all of us. Whatever you need, we’re here.”

You know they are. They always have been.

Your eyes gloss over just slightly, but you beam up at him, nodding. “I know. Thank you.”

He just nods again, giving you a last kiss on your forehead. “Come. I imagine Leo and Nico may have something up their sleeve.”

You blink, confused once more, as he guides you out of the room. “What?”

You both end up in the hallway, where you find Giles, Leo, Nico and Sid waiting. All of them are dressed now, some having been in their pyjamas before, in their semi-formal but still casual clothes. They take in your form with almost identical expressions, pleasant surprise easy as day to see. Robert clears his throat. “Are you all quite done ogling her?”

Giles’ gaze snaps up to Robert’s face. The other three don’t so much as move a muscle.

“Nope.” Sid answers slowly.

“Not quite done yet.” Leo agrees, an impish smile on his face.

“Not even close.” Nico chirps, amber hues rolling over your form again and again. Robert sighs.

“Your self-restraint is deplorable, you three.” His eyes flit over to Giles. “I need to go and get changed. Can you help her with preparing for this? I know you’re considerably knowledgeable in the formalities of the upper echelons of society.”

Giles nods, expression turning serious. “Of course.” He takes your hand when Robert offers him it, and the latter gives your cheek a very brief touch before he heads off to his room. Giles squeezes your hand, encouraging, “Come. We’ll talk in your room.”

He takes you back inside, and the Terrible Trio follow in behind you both. Giles escorts you over to your desk, pulling out your chair and sitting you down in it. He starts to speak while Leo retrieves one of your hairbrushes from your drawer, and Nico pokes into your jewellery box, fishing around for something. “There isn’t too much you need to remember, thankfully, if there is only a courier coming to see you. They have no special form of address or title, so you need not refer to him in any particular way. To be safe, don’t use any title for him, unless he asks or implies that you do so.”

You nod, listening intently. Leo starts to brush your hair, even though you only did it yourself an hour or so ago after you had a shower, and you find yourself soothed by the repetitive motions of it. “However, you will still need to speak formally; I imagine they may report back to those whom requested he bring you the box and information he’s coming with. As such, you will need to conduct yourself politely, in a calm manner, and with grace as well as appreciation.”

Another nod. Leo puts the brush down, very gently starting to fiddle with your hair, twisting it in places and nudging it every so often. You realise that he’s styling it for you, in the way that you prefer to do it for the likes of birthdays and special occasions, not too extravagantly but still showing effort and care. “Okay. What sort of things do couriers get sent out for?”

Giles crosses his arms, pondering, “Well, it depends on the place, of course. Couriers in this region, even in Stein, may be used for different purposes than in Wysteria. Certainly, those in mainland Europe either do not exist anymore, or if they do, have rather limited use. In Wysteria, at least, they are generally sent out to request someone’s presence at the palace, to announce news specific to someone with a strong relation to someone of importance in the palace, and to distribute information regarding awards and honours.”

You swallow hard, feeling Leo gently coax your head forward, and then Nico slip in next to him, fingers brushing over your neck and hair. You shiver slightly. “That’s comforting, at least. So, they’re not sent out to declare that someone’s broken the law, or going to be killed, or something like that?”

Giles cracks a smile. Sid bursts into howling laughter.

“No, Precious, they’re not used for anything remotely like that. They only bring good news, as far as I’m aware.” Leo tips your head back again, and it’s now that Sid, still rolling with his guffaws, swipes something from your jewellery box. He nudges his way in between Leo and Nico, fingers pressing and poking at your earlobe. Baffled, you can only send Giles a quizzical look, to which he shakes his head. “Worry not. He’s not doing anything you should be concerned about.”

Sid coughs, seeming almost winded from his laughter. He fiddles with your other ear now, just for a few seconds, before dropping a kiss atop your hair. He finally produces his phone, taking a picture of the rear-side of your head, before showing it to you.

Your hair has been styled like you thought Leo would, simple but beautiful, elegant but modern. One of your favourite hairclips, a simple strip of small diamonds encased in silver, sits where you like it, delicate yet bold and undeniably beautiful. Finally, earrings that Sid gave you for your last birthday are in your ears, very simple silver triangles, finishing off the look perfectly.

“Guys…” You breathe out, nothing but love now filling you, fear all but forgotten. “Thank you so much. You’re all so wonderful.”

Leo leans in, kissing your cheek affectionately. “No problem, Baby. We’ve got you, and we’ll be there every step of the way. Okay?”

Nico does the same, nuzzling your cheek just a bit as well. “That’s right! Whatever this courier has to say, we’re there for you. We’ll just kick him out if he says anything we don’t like!”

You have to laugh at that, nodding. Leo and Giles offer you their hands, and you take them with a smile, rising to your feet. “Maybe not the last bit. Thank you.” You exhale, feeling nearly completely calm. “I can do this.” You glance around them all, grinning widely. “Group hug for moral support?”

Really, though… as if they’d ever refuse you.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

You spend the next hour and forty-five minutes downstairs, waiting patiently in the living room. All of the guys are there now, dressed in their semi-formal outfits. Byron embraces you, sat on his knee, your legs settled atop Albert’s thighs. You listen to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in your head, using the sound to keep yourself calm.

The security team have been notified of the courier’s impending arrival by this point, and so will let them in when they arrive. They should come any time soon, and you’re trying with all your mental strength and composure to stay calm.

The boys have been helping incessantly, of course. You’ve sat on all of their laps by this point, been hugged countless times, have had constant whispers of sweet nothings in your ears.

You calmed down pretty quickly, that much is safe to say.

However, that didn’t mean you refused when Giles let Michelangelo in, then brought him over to you. Now, he’s settled against your front, draped over your chest with his head tucked into your neck. You stroke him slowly, finding the feeling of his fur under your fingertips to be quite soothing.

That is, until a familiar sound chimes through the house signalling that the gates are opening. Immediately, Giles stands and takes Michelangelo from you.

You get up quickly, all of the boys doing the same, and Byron presses a swift kiss to your head before heading into the entrance. Albert and Nico flank him, and you wait in the archway between the entrance and the living room. Louis’ hand slips into yours, squeezing tenderly, while Giles does the same on your other side, Michelangelo nowhere to be seen. Giles’ thumb rubs over yours, smoothing over your ring.

Albert and Nico open the doors, letting light stream into the entrance from outside. Byron stands, watching, cool and collected, and it’s now that you hear the sound of a car pulling in close to the front of the house. Albert and Nico stand at his sides once more, and the smaller of the two sends you an encouraging wink from the side. You smile softly.

Footsteps. At least three people. Slow, steady pace. There’s no rush.

They move into view.

The first is an elderly man, clad in a red tailcoat with gold trimmings. He wears a black vest over a white shirt, then black trousers and brown boots, the outfit obviously keeping to tradition in Wysteria. His grey air is tied back into a low ponytail, and his blue eyes are kind. The other two people beside him are both dressed identically, one ale and one female, in black suits and smart shoes. Both of them have their hands behind her back.

All three have the palace seal of Wysteria clipped to their breast pockets.

Your lips part, just slightly. You’ve only ever seen the seals in videos or on TV.

“Welcome.” Byron greets, inclining his head. Albert and Nico do the same. The elderly man smiles, and it’s gentle, like that of an old friend. It’s comforting.

“Thank you very much. We have been told that this is where Miss ___ ____ is currently residing, and wished to speak with her. Is she here?” He responds, voice, tonality and pronunciation nothing but perfect. It’s refined, eloquent and majestic, almost lulling and rhythmic, like music. Byron nods.

“She is. Would you like to come in?” He responds politely. The man simply shakes his head.

“Thank you very much, but we will not be remaining here for long. We wish only to deliver our words and a gift to Miss ____.” Byron makes a sound of acknowledgement.

“Of course.” He turns his head, gaze focusing on you.

You breathe in deeply, steeling yourself. The boys squeeze your hands once more, kissing your hair. You return the squeeze, then let them go and make your way over to Byron.

You make sure to keep your posture controlled, strong and calm, even as you move into the strangers’ view and their eyes home in on you. You smile just as gently as the man did, coming to stand at Byron’s side when Albert steps to the side to let you. The elderly man’s expression softens.

“Ah, you are indeed her. I’m very glad we’re able to speak with you today, Miss ____.” He tells you. You incline your head respectfully.

“Thank you very much. I apologise, for you having to travel so far from Wysteria.” He raises a hand, dismissing kindly,

“Worry not, Miss. We understand that you are on your holidays. It is only natural that you have taken time away from home.” You nod at that, glad he’s not annoyed about it. His eyes rise to Byron. “Would I be able to speak with Miss ____ alone, please?”

Byron inclines his head once more. “Of course.” He gives you a cool look, but there’s undeniable warmth in his eyes, and in his voice, when he says, “Call for us if you need anything.”

You give him a smile, replying softly, “I will. Thank you.”

He steps back, as do Albert and Nico, leaving you alone with the courier and the people who appear to be his bodyguards.

Instantly, you feel bare. Exposed, in a way. Vulnerable, somehow. It’s almost unbearable.

Even so, you keep up the smile as the man chuckles quietly, beginning to speak again. “I’m sure you must be rather confused about our presence here, Miss ____. I will explain why, now.”

The female body guard brings her hands out in front of her.

Sat in them is a box, easily bigger than the normal size of a laptop. It’s a pristine white, and is obviously made from strong, durable material, but also an expensive one. Around it is a crimson ribbon, wrapped and tied in a perfect bow in the centre. Everything about it screams luxury and quality.

“This is for you, Miss ____. It is a token of appreciation, personally from His Majesty King Laurent and Her Majesty Queen Stefania, for your continued efforts in protecting, safeguarding and working toward making Wysteria a better place. They have the utmost gratitude and respect for everything you have done, endured and witnessed in recent years, while you have been working with the ICAC.”

Your spine locks into place. You struggle to keep your expression clear.

_The King and Queen of Wysteria have personally sent me a token of thanks for everything I’ve done?_

You could pass out right there and then.

The courier’s smile is widening by the second. Even the bodyguards seem to be forcing back their own as he continues, but their lips are already twitching up. “And this is only an additional gift, Miss ____. Or, should I say, Dame ___ ____,”

Your pupils expand, heart stuttering.

“It is in addition to your just-established damehood.”

You don’t believe it. You’re certain this is a really, really sick and cruel joke of some sort.

_But it can’t be! They’ve got seals! Only palace staff have them, even though this just doesn’t seem real at all. It must be true._

“Damehood?” You repeat the word, voice barely making a whisper. The courier nods.

“Yes. Wysteria is not like some other countries, Dame _____, wherein damehoods and knighthoods – they being one in the same – are extremely rare and near impossible to obtain. Anyone who works as a knight for the palace, male or female or undeclared, automatically gains the same title and privileges as those who have been granted them by the ruling monarchs at the time. However, by the fact that you have been granted the title by them personally means that you will be viewed as possessing a much stronger, extremely respectable damehood.”

The bodyguard with the box steps forward. “If you will, please open the ribbon.” She requests, expression collected, but she’s still fighting her smile. You blink, to which she nods. You swallow back your apprehension, very delicately opening the ribbon holding the box together. It falls away, allowing her to open it.

Inside, the first thing you notice is a certificate, on top of what looks like a booklet, all made beautifully. The certificate is pristinely white, framed in a no-doubt expensive wooden frame. Your eyes skim over the words.

_“On this day, we declare that Miss ___ ____ of Wysteria is to be granted damehood and will henceforth be known and declared as Dame ___ ____. This is a result of her continuing, exemplary, self-sacrificing efforts to protect, safeguard and better Wysteria, and for her courageous acts on the 20 thDecember 2017, in which she defended the pupils of the Royal Wysterian Academy from those who threatened their lives._

_It brings us great honour, pride and joy to award the title of Dame, along with the privileges that come with it, to someone who has done so much in such little time for our country._

_You have our heartfelt thanks and appreciation._

_Signed and approved by His Majesty Laurent and Her Majesty Sofiana Phélypeaux.”_

Your knees feel weak. Your eyes slide to the right of the box.

Atop a plush, crimson cushion sits a seal of Wysteria, ones you’ve seen knights wear on their uniforms; it’s golden, in the shape of a diamond, and has claws at the edges like rings often do. In the centre of the diamond is the crest of Wysteria, making this one different from the ones you’ve seen before, which have the crest of the Wysterian Royal Guard on them.

You’ve got a seal. You actually have a seal of Wysteria. You’re certain you’re dreaming.

The courier is grinning away now, and the bodyguards are as well, amused by your reaction to all of this. He speaks again, explaining, “This seal is yours to wear as you wish, but of course, by doing so, you would naturally be more of a target to those who would wish you harm. As such, His and Her Majesty asked me to implore you to be cautious in when you choose to wear it. This damehood in particular means that your social status is naturally elevated, and that you are among the ranks of the of the higher echelons of society as a result. After all, it was granted by the monarchs themselves.”

He clears his throat, going on, “These were not given to you earlier, for example after the Dregea Incident, for a specific purpose. You, in receiving this damehood, are one of those among His and Her Majesty’s New Year’s Honours List, further elevating your status and rank.”

His gaze turns serious now, eyes hardening. “For the sake of your safety and that of your loved ones, however, they have decided not to broadcast this damehood on TV during the celebration on the twelfth of January, nor have they decided that you should be a part of the ceremony. This is entirely to protect you, as we know that your situation has been extremely turbulent of late, and dangerous to say the least.

“They want you to know, though, that they are keen to meet you, along with the other ICAC members who are also receiving similar knighthoods and damehoods today. They will be in touch soon, to request a day wherein they will be able to meet you all, granted in the distant future since they’re extremely busy.”

There’s so much information to take in. You nod very slowly, trying to process it all without exploding. “Thank you so much. I… this is amazing. Thank you.”

He shakes his head, laughing softly. “Please, the appreciation is all ours to behold. The king and queen have become aware of how little recognition those who work for the ICAC receive for their efforts, in comparison to the likes of the emergency services and military, and so they wanted to express their gratitude in full, starting with people just like you.”

His eyes take on a shine, something unreadable but joyous swirling in them. “They have also granted your father, in memory, a full knighthood, and a Medal of Honour, Bravery and Courage, for everything that he did when he was alive. This is his own seal and certificate of knighthood. Both boxes contain everything you need to know about the titles.”

The male bodyguard brings his hands forward now, producing a box identical to yours. He holds it out to you, and you take it very carefully, anchoring yourself in place so you won’t drop it. The female bodyguard hands you your box, setting it on top of the first. All three of them step back now, bowing lowly, with absolute respect and appreciation.

The courier speaks once more. “From us, and from His and Her Majesty, we thank you sincerely for everything you have done for this country. We wish you the utmost happiness and safety, as well as success and prosperity, in everything that you do. Be well, Dame ___ ____, and we look forward to seeing you once again in Wysteria Palace soon. Best wishes and congratulations, Madam.”

You’re caught off guard by the formal address, ending up bowing yourself, trying to keep focused around your bafflement. “Thank you very much. Please, if you are able, express my utmost thanks to His and Her Majesty. Please, let them know that I’m honoured and so grateful, and that I’ll bear the title with pride and love for Wysteria.”

You all straighten up at the same time. The courier nods, beaming at you. “Of course, Madam. I will make sure to convey your sentiments to them.” They all move back, toward the steps, and he inclines his head. “Good day, Dame ____.”

And, with that, they turn around and head for the long, armoured black car they apparently arrived in. They get in without looking back, and within seconds, they’re rolling around the fountain before heading to the gates. They open for them, security apparently happy for them to leave. They go through and turn the corner, disappearing.

Once they’re out of sight, you feel the hysteria coming. It’s good hysteria, but it’s hysteria nonetheless.

“Guys…” You pant out, breathing becoming erratic with nerves, giddiness, shock, joy and immense confusion. When they don’t respond, you raise your voice. “Guys!”

At your shout, they come running.

They sprint in instantly, surrounding you in a second. You don’t even look at them, instead rasping out, “Someone take the box, please. Now. I think I’m going to be sick, pass out, scream, or all three.”

The box is taken from you. You can hear their gasps, exclamations, shouts and yells; apparently, they weren’t expecting this either, and have caught on to what it is.

Your knees buckle. You collapse to the floor, and there’s a series of shouts, hands catching your arms to prevent you from hurting yourself. You kneel there, leaning on your hands heavily, trying to breathe.

There’s so much going on in your head. You’re feeling so much right now.

They’ve recognised you. They’ve recognised your dad. You have a title. Everything you’ve done, the distance you’ve been pushed so fast and so hard to cover, has been worth it. Your dad didn’t die with his legacy forgotten. He’ll never be forgotten now; he’ll be remembered for as long as Wysteria lives.

It’s that last, sole fact that reduces you to tears, reduces you to curling into a ball, face crushed against your knees to stifle your – for once – sobs of joy.

The boys are frantic around you. Someone has crumpled to the floor next to you, arms locked around you. There’s a sharp, barked order from what sounds like Robert, and then someone’s coaxing you up, easing your hunched-over body upright. They murmur to you, practically cooing, until you’re straight enough for them to move you. Their arms hook under your thighs, then around your back, lifting you into their arms princess style.

As soon as you’re safely in their arms, they’re shooting up, standing and bolting away somewhere. You hear movement and then the sound of the doors shutting, echoing through the entire house. You can smell a familiar, sweet, light scent, and it immediately identifies the person holding you.

Nico.

He sits down, setting you on his lap. He cups your face almost desperately, worriedly. For a brief moment it, genuinely confuses you.

Then, you remember that he doesn’t know you’re crying because you’re happy.

“I-I’m-” You gasp out around your cries. “I’m not up- upset. I’m happy. It’s… it’s okay.”

You laugh out the last word, setting yourself off into another bout of sobs. Nico’s body sags around you with relief. He’s immediately embracing you, kissing your forehead and eyelids and nose, temples and cheeks and even your chin. Anywhere he can touch, he’s kissing it, removing your hands from your face as he does. He brushes your hair back, listening to you sob out, “They knighted… they knighted… dad. For when he was- was alive. They knighted him!”

His arms crush you in one of the tightest hugs you’ve ever had. His forehead presses against yours hard, and when he speaks, you feel moisture dripping onto your cheeks. It’s not your tears. “Oh my God… Princess, that’s amazing. I’m so happy. That’s just… oh, man. I’m crying too.”

You both end up laughing through the sobs, choking on tears because you’re too elated to care. He rocks forward and backward with you, celebrating in the strangest possible way.

But, the thing is, it doesn’t feel strange at all.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

Fifteen minutes later, you’ve finally calmed down. Nico’s still sniffling a bit, but that’s beside the point.

You recite to the boys everything the courier said, your mum, Lucian, Xander and Tobias also on the phone and listening intently while you do. She ends up crying even harder when you tell her, and you’re ninety percent certain Lucian is crying as well.

They all congratulate you when you finish, they meaning all fourteen members of your family. You’re hugged and kissed, held and loved by the boys you cherish so much. You couldn’t be happier.

That’s a lie.

It’s a lie, because somehow, there’s even more joy when you finally open your father’s box, pressing a kiss to the seal that should have adorned your dad when he was alive.

Somehow, you become even more elated when you cup your own seal, lifting it from its cushion, the chains draping down from it like rain graced by Midas’ touch.

Somehow, you reach a new level of delight as you stand before all of the boys, your mum, Lucian, Xander and Tobias, the latter four watching through a video call, as you stand and fix the seal to your jumper.

Somehow, as you twirl in place, proud and teary-eyed, your family cheering and clapping for their Dame of Wysteria, you know that there is no end to happiness.

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	13. Part XIII | Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**31 st March 2017 | Easter Holidays, College Year 2**

 As is tradition with weddings, they must be hectic.

And what’s a better way, you think, to start off this chaos, than to wake up the bride-to-be by jumping on her at six o’clock in the morning.

“Here comes the bride! Here comes the bride!” You scream, sprinting into your mum’s room and launching yourself on top of her. She yells out in pain, the sound cut off mid-way since you winded her and she has no air left, before choking and gasping out,

“___, I’m getting old. You can’t just jump on me like that – I’ll break a hip.” You snort, rolling off her and standing up.

“Yeah, right. And pigs can fly, too.” Smirking evilly, you grab the edge of her cover, seeing her glaring up at you through the darkness of her room. “Now, you’re either going to be a good bride and get up, now, like you said you would since you started planning one of the most important days of your life so far, and I’m going to be a good daughter. Or, you’re going to be a bad bride, and I’m going to be a very, very, very bad, ruthless and possibly merciless daughter. You know me, mum. Take your pick.”

She’s up in a second, glaring at you like she wants you to explode. You wink. “Wonderful. Get yourself up and showered – I’ve already been in, lazybones.”

She gapes, looking horrified. “What godforsaken time did you wake up?”

You snort. “Only quarter to six. Geez. We’ve got a lot to do in the next six hours.” You turn around, giving her a little finger wave, before heading downstairs.

You start to make yourself breakfast, tucking your dressing gown around you tighter and pulling your phone out. You open the text you just got.

**_Lucian “The Boss” Schuyler:_ ** _I feel like death_

You snort.

**____ “The Agent” ____:_ ** _Why? Because you’re getting married, or you’re awake at the crack of dawn? Welcome to the pain every one of your trainees has to face_ _J_

You take your time making and eating breakfast, rubbing your hair with your towel while you do. Once that’s done, you dry it, then wait in the living room for another fifteen minutes. It’s at this point that there’s a knock at the door, and you go to answer it.

Stood there is a girl of maybe 23, with sun-kissed skin and ombre hair, rich chocolate at the top fading into a pale blond at the bottom. With beautiful brown eyes and breath-taking makeup even at this time of day, she smiles brightly, chirping, “Hi! Makeup and hair service for a certain bride?”

You grin, nodding and stepping back. “Yep, that’s right! Please, come in.”

She nods gratefully, coming in and marvelling at the hallway, a box in one hand and a bag in the other. “Wow. It’s beautiful in here.” At your soft laugh, she moves her gaze back to you, watching as you lock the door. “Are you the bride?”

Your heartbeat skips just a little, driving you to respond instantly, “No, no! That’s, er… that’s my mum. Sorry.”

She shakes her head, waving her hands about with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”

You just shake your own head, insisting, “It’s fine, honestly. Please, follow me. We have the best lighting in the living room.”

She nods, letting you escort her into the living room. It’s all ready for her to work, the dining table moved in s that she can work comfortably. She sets her things down, starting to get ready to work on you and your mum. “Right. Who’s going first?”

You scratch the back of your head, giving a marginally nervous chuckle. “The bride’s probably still in the shower, so I’m guessing you may as well start with me. It’s an afternoon wedding, so it’s better to get things going early, I think.”

She hums in agreement, patting one of the dining chairs. “Okay! Let’s get started, then.” She gestures to your dress, hanging up with your mum’s wedding dress on the fireplace’s mantelpiece. “I’m guessing the blue one’s yours?” At your nod, you now sitting with your chair facing her, she grins widely. “Fabulous – it’s beautiful. Do you have anything in particular you want for your hair or makeup?”

“Nope.” You return the grin, declaring, “You’re free to do whatever you want, as long as it looks nice, obviously. I’m putting my life quite literally in your hands.”

The grin turns almost malevolent. “Oh?”

Your own turns into a smirk. “Except, the woman who helped my mum picked a dress basically threatened me when she was advising me on what to do with my hair and makeup. She said to keep it calm and classy, nothing too heavy, and to keep it to eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara, lip gloss and whatever I use for my skin. She also said to avoid the hair being too strict. Can you handle that?”

She takes out four different makeup brushes and a sponge, twirling them in her fingers with her eyes glittering. “Oh, honey, I could do that with my eyes closed.” She takes out an array of makeup palettes, then nudges you back against the chair. “Sit back. That woman will have nothing to complain about once I’m done with you.”

**♡** **♔** **♡**

It’s nearly time. You’re ready.

Your mum is just about done with hair and makeup, and you’re admiring your own, now fully dressed and ready to go. Your hair has been done up in a way that complements your feature and face shape, accessorised with your favourite diamond clip that you wore when the palace courier came to inform you of your damehood. Your makeup is, true to the makeup artist’s word, she being called Ninette, very much natural and simply a complement to your natural beauty, bringing out your features gracefully and elegantly.

You’re amazed to think it, but you really, really look beautiful.

The car is due to pick you and your mum up soon, it being eleven, and you spend the time gathering everything you and her will need. You make sure you have your phone, charged fully, and your clutch bag with your shawl, the latter being midnight blue with silver jewels scattered across it, giving it the appearance of a night-time sky.

You’re getting excited by this point. You can’t wait to experience a wedding, to have Lucian as your dad and Xander and Tobias as your brothers legally, and to see the boys in their suits.

Your mum finishes with her hair and makeup, looking absolutely stunning in her wedding dress and veil. You fawn over her, screaming with her about how wonderful this all is, before making sure she has everything and is ready to go. Ninette packs her things up, wishes you both well and your mum a lovely wedding, then makes her way out.

In no time, thankfully a bit earlier than it was supposed to, your mode of transport arrives.

And you let out a shocked yell, seeing a white limousine pull up outside, down the path.

“Mum!” You all but crow, hearing her hysterical laughter behind you. “You ordered a limousine?”

“Yep! I thought that I may as well go all-out, and Lucian agreed.” She approaches you now, practically glowing in the sunlight, dazzling white shining in the already-bright room. She cups your face delicately, wary of your makeup, before she sighs out, “Thank you, ___.  Are you ready for this?”

You nod without hesitation, resting your hands atop hers. “You’re welcome, and thank you, mum. I’m ready.” You squeeze her fingers. “Let’s go, Miss Bride. We don’t want you late for your own wedding.”

She returns the nod, determined. She grabs her bouquet of flowers, larger than your own, filled with bluebirds, globe thistles, blue delphiniums, summer blues and centaurea cyanus. Your own has them as well, but less making your bouquet daintier than hers. Once you’re both ready, you help her outside and lock the door behind you both, then escort her down the path. There’s no one else here, because you are the only family she has in her bridal party. The rest live abroad, and none of them who potentially could have come were able to make it.

Getting her into the car is a war in itself; you practically fight her dress, trying to make sure the train of it isn’t trapped in the door, before getting in yourself. The inside of the limousine has a small bar, as many do, and is a mix of greys, blues and black. “Oh, wow. This is amazing…”

Your mum’s head bobs up and down, the limousine pulling away smoothly and taking you both to your destination; a castle in Wysteria’s highlands, just a little away from the border with Laurelia. “It really is. I’ve always wanted to see what riding in a limo feels like. It’s fabulous!”

You laugh at that, gesturing to the mini bar. “Are you going to have a drink before you get there? You know, to settle the nerves?”

She snorts, shaking her head. “As if. It’d only make me more likely to trip and fall flat on my face on the way up the aisle.”

You giggle at the mental image, shaking your head. “Only you, mum. Only you.”

You spend the whole ride basically psyching yourself and your mum up, until you’re both near enough bouncing with excitement. The limo eventually leaves the main metropolitan areas of Wysteria, entering into the highlands, where the sky is dusted with clouds and the air holds a soft mist. The sun beams through the clouds intermittently, shining down and making the grass and forestation around you blaze with colour.

And then, the limo ascends a hill, driving up a path of pebbles in a winding circle.

Once it reaches the top of the hill, you gape, amazed.

The castle is immense. Made from light stone brick, its towers and keep looming above the hill, tall, strong and proud. The battlements are still intact, as well as the portcullis, the iron gate in front of the large doors which lead inside the castle. It’s raised, and the doors are open, decorated with blue flowers and streams of white material. Cars are parked all around the castle on the hill, and there’s no one outside, but you can hear sound from inside when the driver pulls up in front of the doors.

“It’s time!” You chirp, waiting until the driver stops, before grinning at her brightly. “Let’s do this. We’re right on time.”

She nods, inhaling deeply, gripping her bouquet just a little bit tighter. “Yeah, it’s time. I hope your dad – not Lucian – can see, so he can know I’ve finally managed to move on and take the next step.”

Your smile softens, heart aching a bit. You take her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “Of course he is. He’ll be elated, because you’re finally letting yourself love and be happy again. You’re giving yourself the option of having a family again, after years of only having me and the boys. We’re family, but… well, this makes us a more full family. This feels complete, now. It hasn’t felt that way since dad died, so I at least think this is good thing. Scratch that, I’m so happy. I’m so glad that, if I’m going to have a dad again, it’s Lucian, and that I get to have big brothers as well because of that.”

She blinks, surprised, emotions swirling in her eyes like a maelstrom. After a moment, though, they glaze over, and she beams at you, nodding fiercely. “I think you’re absolutely right. I think he’d be happy, too.”

You return the smile. It’s at this point that the door opens, and the driver holds out his hand, dressed in a familiar, smart ICAC uniform. “Everyone is ready inside and waiting for you. If you are ready, it’s time to begin.”

You nod, as does your mum. You get up first, heading for the door. You take his hand, letting him help you down, standing up on the pebbled floor. The chilly highland winds whip around you, but the mountainous surroundings look even more breath-taking now you’re outside, and you take a moment to marvel at them. Beaming away, you move away from the car, eyes rolling over to the castle.

Stood there now, you see, are Xander and Tobias. They’re both in black suits, their ties an electric blue that matches their eyes, and have done their hair neatly. They look amazing.

Your smile widens at the sight of them. Your mum has just gotten down when they reach you both, bounding over with massive grins on their faces.

“Baby sister!” Xander all but sings, swooping in and spinning you into a tight hug, twirling in place. You giggle away, hugging his neck in return. “You look absolutely stunning! You’re so beautiful!”

“Thank you, big brother! You look stunning yourself, handsome!” You practically coo, letting him set you down on your feet again. Tobias has been greeting your mother, remarking quietly that she looks beautiful, and now turns around to you. His grin is wicked, pumped and hyped up, and he does the same as his twin, lifting you up and whirling you around. You howl with laughter, singing out, “Hi, Tobias! You look just as beautiful!”

He rolls his eyes, but his grin doesn’t falter. He sets you down, hugging you tight before grumbling, “Shut up. You look gorgeous, idiot.”

You snort, letting go and stepping back. Xander hugs you as well, informing you and your mum, “We’ve got everyone sat down, the officiant is ready, and dad’s good to go as well.” He gives you a squeeze, humming out, “Are you ready to be a part of a rather unconventional, non-traditional, slightly strange wedding ceremony?”

You nod, returning the squeeze. “Of course! What, with the bride and groom having no parents, and having three grown-up children between themselves, having ICAC agents as grooms and bridesmaids while wearing service uniforms, the children acting as the maid of honour and double-barrel best men, and then them walking down the isle together, this is completely wacky and odd! Nothing less would be acceptable for our odd-bod family.”

They all laugh at that. Your mum flicks you on the forehead gently, drawling, “Alright, alright, Dame ___. It’s a weird wedding, I get it. Shush.” She gives you a nudge in the back, commanding, “Right, you lot! Get moving, please. I am not being late for my own wedding.”

You give her a quick, last hug, snickering out, “See you in there, Miss Bride. Please don’t trip, fall over or faint. Love you!”

With that, you head toward the castle with Xander and Tobias at your sides, your mum following behind you at a distance. Once you’re inside, you put your bag where other people have deposited their things.

There’s no family here, of course. The only guests are all ICAC agents, from the Directors to Level Five agents, all the way down to Level Three agents.

Xander and Tobias escort you up the leftmost of the two sets of stairs leading to the second floor, making sure you don’t fall in your wedges. Once you’re up, they take you to the large door in the centre, directly above the one that was downstairs; you assume that’s the great hall you’ve heard your mum and Lucian mention, where the reception will be.

There’s an ICAC agent in a military service uniform, specific to the aforementioned organisation; it’s black with white epaulets and trims around the ends of the sleeves, with several accolades and medals adorning its front and breast pocket. At his waist is a sabre sword, long and sharp, and there’s a belt around his waist. A black cap with the ICAC’s logo sits atop his head.

Your stomach flutters with nerves. You’re going to walk down the aisle, even if it’s as a maid of honour, while your boyfriends are in the same room. Your mum isn’t having anyone give her away, but you’re going to walk with Xander and Tobias, almost like they’re giving you away.

The two offer you their elbows like you’ve practiced over and over again. You take them, your bouquet held in your dominant hand, before inhaling deeply and steeling yourself. “This is it, you two. From here on out, you’re related to me and mum, even to the law. Brace yourselves.”

Xander laughs lightly. “There’s nothing to brace for. I, at least, can’t wait to be able to say you’re officially my little sister.” Tobias nods, grunting in agreement. Xander nods to the agent at the door. “We’re all ready.”

The agent nods. “Yes, Sir.”

With that, he opens one of the two doors slightly, peeking in briefly. You hear the call for everyone to stand, and then music starts to play, a shorter version of the Wedding March by Felix Mendelssohn. The three of you straighten up, standing proud and ready, expressions identically calm, pleasant and happy.  _Even_  Tobias.

When it’s your cue to go in, Xander gives another nod. The agent spins on his heels, giving both doors a firm push. They swing open, stopped gently by two more agents on the inside, revealing the room where the ceremony is going to happen.

It’s the room that used to be a chapel. Chairs line the room, full of ICAC agents in their service uniforms, all very similar to those of the agents helping out. Most of the chairs have white drapes covering them, but the first two are different; on the right side, they have blue ribbons tied around the backs, and that’s where the Directors, Level Four and Level Five agents are sitting.

On the left side, each of the nine chairs there have a different coloured ribbon, all in very familiar colours.

Red, gold, forest green, baby blue, indigo, midnight blue, burgundy, rose, and chocolate brown.

The boys are all there, each stood in front of their respective chairs. They’re all in suits, nearly identical, with little differences here and there. All of their ties are their respective favourite colours as well, something you guess was instructed by your mum or Lucian, and their vests, over their white shirts are all the same. Each and every one of them have turned, eyes focused solely on you, and you can see the absolute love, adoration and amazement in their gazes. They’re all smiling, the likes of Sid, Leo, Nico, Giles and Robert all grinning away.

You beam back, face lighting up like the sun.

Keeping in time with the music, you force yourself to move when Xander and Tobias do. You walk down the aisle, feeling the pressure from everyone watching you. Your eyes flit around the ICAC members, and you almost immediately come to a halt.

Stood amongst the agents, almost hidden and seemingly the only other person not wearing a service uniform, is Mimi Lévesque, the girl from college who warned you about the threat from the nobility last year. Stood next to her is another woman, strikingly similar in looks, clad in a service uniform. It occurs to you in a second that she must be Mimi’s mother, Alisanne, the woman who warned you when Adalicia and Saber’s families went missing. She’s also the woman who helped with investigating the nobles involved in targeting the ICAC student-agents.

Mimi waves at you, eyes shining. You give her a beatific smile, eyes returning to the centre of the chapel.

There stands Lucian, stood in his full military service uniform. His is adorned with many, many medals and accolades, covering nearly all of his chest, and has a sash across it as well as white epaulets and sleeve trims. His hair done up neatly, stance proud, collected and prepared, and he’s smiling softly at the three of you as you walk down the aisle toward him.

In seconds, you arrive at the end of the aisle. Xander and Tobias both kiss your cheeks, and you do the same with them, before they let you go and move off to the right side of the alter. You stand on the left side, hands curling around your bouquet.

The rest of the chapel all turn to the doors again, waiting for the opportunity to see your mum. You don’t.

Instead, you very briefly glance at your boys. They do the same, eyes snapping to your face. You grin, mouthing, “Here comes the bride!”

That earns grins back from a few of them. You all turn now, gazes focusing in on said woman. She emerges, smiling so brightly it’s blinding. Her eyes settle on Lucian and stay there as she walks down the aisle, but you can see her flushed cheeks beneath her makeup, most likely at the coos and gasps of awe she draws from the agents.

In no time at all, she reaches the alter. Lucian offers her his hand, and she steps up next to him. The officiant claps, the music fading away. You turn to watch as everyone else sits, eyes meeting Xander and Tobias’ from the other side of the alter, as the officiant begins the service. From then on, you only watch your mum and Lucian, basking in the obvious happiness in their eyes, in the love they gaze at each other with. The whole time, though, you can feel the boys’ stares behind you, probably on your mum, but it feels like they could be watching you.

You imagine one day being able to marry them all, if you ended up coming around to it. Now that you’ve been to a wedding yourself, and can feel the atmosphere of it, that sheer, blissful contentedness and peace, you can understand why people want them. You get why people enjoy them. You comprehend, now, why it’s said to be the happiest day of one’s life.

And so, you bask in that feeling, bask in the emotions flooding you. You focus on them, embracing them and holding on tight, as your mum and Lucian declare their eternal commitment for one another.

And then you’re clapping, cheering, tears in your eyes, as they finish their vows once and for all, showing you that beautiful, true love’s kiss.

Once they finally finish smooching each other, the agents on the back-most rows of seats line up in the centre of the aisles, drawing their sabres. They raise them up in the classic, military sabre arch, and Lucian sweeps your mum off her feet, into his arms. You, Xander, Tobias, Sid and Leo all hoot and cheer him on, watching him carry her under the arch and toward the doors. The photographer is constantly taking pictures and videos of the whole thing, following them out once they leave.

It’s at this point that Xander speaks, announcing, “If everyone will follow ___, myself and Tobias, we’ll escort you all downstairs, to where the reception will be held. Please come with us.”

As everyone starts to get up, the twins wander over to you, offering their elbows again. You send your boys an apologetic smile, taking them and letting them escort you back down the aisle. You all go downstairs, where you see your mum and Lucian waiting in the main entrance. You give her a wink as you go past, everyone following, before the three of you head into the main room downstairs.

In there, the decorations are similar to the chapel; white and blue ribbons, as well as white and blue flowers, line the walls, stained glass windows and even the chandeliers. White, circular tables fill the room, and then there’s a long table at the top of the room. All of them have white drapes over them with blue accents, flowers and ribbons on top, and then all of the chairs have blue ribbons now as well, except for one table in particular; one which has an, again, familiar array of colours on its chairs, including one with your favourite colour. There’s also one with your favourite colour at the long table, as well.

In the centre of the huge room is a space for dancing, and you can see speakers fitted to the high ceiling, connected and supported by the pillars. At the back-left of the room is a DJ, with a table set up to control the music, and on the opposite side of her are another set of doors, from which you can smell something delicious. On the long table in the middle is a large cake, white with blue swirls, roses and elegant patterns running around it, airbrushed with blue feathers.

Xander and Tobias escort you to the long table, where Xander tells you, “The seat with your ribbon is yours, at least for now. When the speeches and toasts are done, you can sit by your guys, of course.”

You give him a smile, nodding. “Thank you, big brother.”

He bounces where he stands just a little, cooing, “Aw, God, this is the best. You’re welcome, baby sister.”

He pulls your chair out for you, and you sit down, watching Tobias start to guide specific people to specific sets and tables. Xander pops off to do the same, and soon, your boys are walking in, following Xander over to the nearest table to the long one, the former having the different coloured ribbons on the seats. You wave and smile at them, receiving several of each in return. When everyone’s sat down, Xander and Tobias take their seats, on the other side of where your mum and Lucian will be in the centre of the table.

It’s at this point that the DJ speaks, announcing, “Will everyone please welcome the lovely newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler!”

Everyone cheers. The said couple enter the room hand-in-hand, coming to stand at the table. They give the standard pleasantries and your mum goes off in a little speech, but it’s nothing massive, thankfully, and you reckon that has something to do with the amazing smell of food coming from the next room. They both announce that it’s time to eat, something that everyone seems to appreciate, it being nearly three in the afternoon.

You chat with your family while you all wait, sending periodic glances over at your boys. They tend to do the same, albeit more frequently, and seem adorably happy if they’re able to catch your eye in the process.

Another hour or so is spent eating; the food is amazing, so much so that you end up practically moaning with each bite, to the great amusement of Lucian and your mum. Once you finish, Lucian drops his hand atop your shoulder, leaning over to murmur with a small smile, “If you want to go and sit with your boys, you can, you know. We thought you’d go and sit with them from the get-go.”

You smile back, shaking your head. “I wanted to spend some time with all of you first. Thank you, though – I do want to see them.” Several other guests have done the same as you, swapping seats and joining other tables to sit by friends or close associates, which makes you feel better about moving. “I’m going to go and chat with them for a bit, then. See you later, dad!”

He chuckles, but the smile widens, becoming more serene and tranquil. “You’re very welcome, daughter.”

You laugh as well, standing up and pushing your chair in. You pop over to your mum very briefly, leaning in to kiss her cheek and whisper, “I’m going to go and sit with the guys for a while. Okay?”

She nods, returning the kiss with a sweet smile. “Of course. Have fun! And, don’t forget, the dancing is starting soon. I expect to see you up there, with all your experience from the academy.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “No, thank you.” You give Xander and Tobias a little finger wave. “Please distract her so she doesn’t drag me up to dance. I’m going to go and sit with the guys for a while.”

Xander laughs breathily, nodding. “Will do. Enjoy yourself!”

Tobias snickers, expression sinister. “I’m going to remind her as soon as the dancing starts.”

You send him a glare.

Regardless, you head around the table, feeling the eyes of the Directors and Level Five agents on you as you go past. Ignoring the weight of their stares, you make your way over to the guys, arms and shoulders now bare since you’ve taken your shawl off. You head over to your seat, inspecting the order of the guys in relation to your seat in a clockwise rotation.

It’s you, and then to your left, Robert, Byron, Albert, Nico, Sid, Leo, Alyn, Louis and Giles, the latter being on your right. They’re all still in their suits, but Byron has unfastened his blazer, while everyone else but Giles and Albert have taken theirs off, leaving them in their white shirts and vests, each their favourite colours. It’s almost like a rainbow, looking around them all.

Robert stands upon noticing you approaching, pulling your chair out for you. You heart flutters a little, and you beam at him, slipping in before sitting down. “Thank you.” He grins back, pushing the chair in, before sitting back down. “Hi, guys. Enjoying yourselves?”

Nico’s head bounces up and down enthusiastically, eyes shining. “It’s been so amazing. I’m so glad I was able to come.”

There are approving nods from the others. Giles leans in to you, softly, voice almost feathery, “And you look absolutely breath-taking. Although it may not bow to tradition, I’m afraid to say that your beauty surpasses that of the bride herself. I’ve hardly been able to take my eyes off you all day.”

You immediately feel yourself flushing, pleasant, fuzzy warmth churning inside you with delight. You try to stifle the huge smile attempting to form on your lips, instead ducking your head to hide your blush, mumbling, “Thank you. All of you look so beautiful as well – you all look amazing in your suits.”

There’s a round of laughter from them all, which only worsens your blush. Giles’ hands settles atop your knee, palm heated, thumb rubbing the skin soothingly. “It should be criminal for you to be so adorable, ___. Honestly…”

You force yourself to look up through your embarrassment, sighing out, “Anyway, moving on! The dancing starts soon, apparently, and my mum’s expecting me to dance. I’m counting on you lot to protect me – I’m not going up there, especially when the Directors and Level Fives are leering at me everywhere I go.”

The boys simultaneously glance over at said people, finding them looking over in your direction every couple of seconds. Several of the boys frown, and Alyn grumbles, “I’m half tempted to ask them what their deal is. Why are they always treating you differently and obsessing over you?”

You shake your head, just as clueless as they are. “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

“___, are you really not going to dance?” Nico asks, head tilted, big eyes enquiring. Your gaze slides over to him, and he pouts just a little, doing the dreaded puppy eyes. “But this is our first time going to a wedding! We have to all dance, at least once! Please, will you dance, for me? You can dance with me!”

_Damn him. Damn him and those eyes._

“Er…” You trail off, feeling torn. If the Directors and Level Fives weren’t here, you wouldn’t have as much of an issue with it. “I don’t know, Nico. They keep watching me.”

Byron chips in now, offering, “I could remedy that, and kill two birds with one stone at the same time.” Seeing your confused expression, he smiles softly, explaining, “We all want to know what their fascination with you is. Correct?”

Everyone nods. “Precisely. They may be unwilling to divulge such information, but considering my political and social position, as well as how much I’ve proven my loyalty to them over the years since taking over Gerald’s position, I may be able to persuade them into telling me what it is. That would sufficiently distract them, allowing you to dance comfortably, while at the same time assuage the ambiguity of their attention on you, presuming that they tell me.”

That’s a really good idea. You perk up immediately, heart stuttering just a bit. “You’d be willing to do that?”

His expression turns to one of amusement. “Of course I would. I’m curious myself, as we all are, and am also to some extent concerned as to why they’re focused on you so intensely. It would ease my nerves, I imagine, to at least know their reasoning.”

Your mind settles with relief and calm, and you nod, responding gratefully, “Thank you, Byron. I appreciate that you’d do that for us all.”

He reaches across the table, taking your hand and lifting it. He raises it to his lips, brushing a kiss over the knuckles. Your skin prickles. “You are most welcome, ___. You know I am here to support you in any way I am able, at any time.”

Your eyes gleam with joy and gratitude, and your head drifts up and down once more. “I know.”

He lets your hand go, and you draw it back, eyes skimming around the room. All of the agents look happy and content, talking amongst themselves, and you can see many enjoying the alcohol available. You grin.

“I guess Lucian was right.” You muse absently, more to yourself than to the boys, but they all express confusion at your words. You chuckle. “He said the ICAC agents, even though they’re probably some of the most serious people you’ll meet on a normal day, completely let go and relax at things like this. He said that, because they’re always so stressed and wound up with security and safety, or things like that, they usually end up going a bit mad on occasions like this.”

Your gaze settles on an agent, a man maybe in his twenties, getting up and starting to dance to the music thrumming through the room from the speakers. He hasn’t even moved to the dancefloor – he’s just jigging about next to his chair and the table he’s been sitting at, the agents around him laughing hysterically in response. “See what I mean?”

They boys all look over, and Nico giggles, sighing out, “Ah! We need to do that! It’s like a rite of passage, dancing and losing all dignity at a wedding!”

A waiter comes over now, offering you a selection of drinks on a tray since you’ve moved seats. You choose your favourite non-alcoholic one with a thank you, to which he beams and pops off to do his rounds. You sip at the drink, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Some more time passes while the guests all finish eating and have some time to let their late lunch settle down, and it’s at this point that your mum stands, tapping her glass with a spoon to draw everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone! Now we’ve all eaten, it’s time for the entertainment, before the dancing begins! Of course, since most people in here belong to the ICAC, we couldn’t resist giving you all a familiar touch to the wedding! So, if you’d all follow us outside, we’ll begin.”

At that, you blink, surprised; you didn’t know they’d arranged for any other entertainment than the dancing. You stand anyway, bouncing over to your other chair to get your shawl, before you return to your boys. They form a protective ring around you, seemingly without thinking, as you all follow your mum and Lucian through the castle once more. They take you all downstairs, then back outside, where the clouds have cleared for the most part and the sun is shining down on the large hill you’re standing on.

And, in the centre of the hill are seven targets, like those in shooting or archery ranges. To the side are racks containing what you see are air shotguns, ones which have pellets as opposed to real bullets; you often used them in ICAC training for bettering your aim, while preventing the possibility of shooting another agent or Lucian. Next to those racks are three compound bows, along with three quivers of arrows.

“Oh my God.” You shake your head, shouting over to your mum, “Mum, are you serious? You’re combining alcohol with guns and bows?”

She howls with laughter, as does Lucian. The latter speaks, wandering over and picking up one of the air guns. “Yes, we are. We thought it would be fun to see how everyone does under the influence, and how much those who aren’t drunk need to practice.”

You groan. “This is a bad idea.”

The boys seem to agree. Louis stares at the guns with a good amount of trepidation, asking, “Are they real guns?”

You sigh, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “No. They’re air guns – they have pellets instead of bullets, so if you get shot with one, it’s almost guaranteed not to actually do any damage, or if it does, it won’t be horrifically dangerous. Well, in theory. If you get shot up close, you’re probably still screwed.”

He blanches, paling considerably. You squeeze his arm, hearing Lucian speaking again. “Now, I think it’s only right that our new family goes first – we’re going to have a little tournament, and see who gets the highest score. Xander, Tobias, ___, get over here.”

You groan, nudging your way through the crowd of people and sending your boys an apologetic look. The guests part to let you through, and as you head past Mimi and her mum Alisanne, the former catches your hand, encouraging, “You can do it, ___! I believe in you!”

Alisanne just winks. You can’t help but smile, squeezing Mimi’s hand. “Thanks.”

The guests spread out in front of the castle, on one big, long line, watching you and your brothers go over to Lucian. He smirks at you, to which you send him a mildly spiteful glare, before handing you a gun. “You remember how to use it, right?”

You take the gun, quipping, “No, I’m going to aim at the ground, hold down the trigger with the safety on and forget to load it.”

The smirk widens. You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling just a bit as well.

You check that it’s loaded, turning the safety off, while the other four do the same, and then you stand before one of the targets, calculating where you need to aim with the wind and type of gun. Lucian puts down a case of pellets on the floor, then follows your lead, as do your mum and brothers. You send your mum a dubious look. “Have you ever used one of these before?”

She grins. “I’ve been taught the basics, but I’ve never fired one in my life.”

You can feel your own blood draining now. “Right. Wonderful.”

“Ready?” Lucian calls, raising his gun. You sigh, lifting your own to where it needs to sit, then peering at the target through the sights. The breeze picks up a bit, and you shift its position to cater for it, waiting for the call. “Three, two, one. Fire!”

You all press the triggers at the same time. The muted sound of the shots firing echoes through the mountains and highlands, and you immediately sense that you’ve hit your target. Your lips twitch up, forming a graceful smirk.

“Another round. Three, two, one, fire!”

You adjust with the wind, firing once more. The smirk gets stronger.

You all lower the guns, and then you bounce down to your target, peering at it. You burst into howls of laughter, glancing at the others’ targets.

“I win!” You sing out, waving your gun about, perhaps a little too comfortably. “Aw, dad, you were one off a tie with me! You need to practice more!”

You got two tens, your mum got a five and a seven, Xander got a nine and an eight, Tobias got two nines, and Lucian got a ten and a nine.

The latter scowls, avoiding looking at you. He turns back to the guests. “Who’s going next?”

You skip back toward the guests, your shotgun propped back against your shoulder. Your boys send you proud, amused smiles and grins as you return them. “I’m the score to beat. Who’s going to have a go?”

Sid, Leo, Nico, Alyn and Albert all step forward. You hear the Directors laugh to themselves. “She really is something, isn’t she?”

You glance over at them, seeing them watching you fondly, eyes kind. Before you know it, you’re smiling at them, something inside you twisting somehow pleasantly. The Level Fives are watching you as well, and they make you feel uneasy, but the Directors make you feel calm.

Something overtakes your mind, just for a brief moment. Before you even realise it, you’re holding out your gun to them. “Are either of you going to have a go, Directors?”

The female one’s expression softens, grin majestic and calm. She steps forward, accepting the gun. “Of course. Thank you, Dame ___.”

She pats your shoulder very gently, stepping past you to the targets. The man laughs gently at your shocked face, caused by her use of your formal title.

“___.” You blink, straightening up. He stops before you, a hand settling lightly atop your shoulder. His voice is nothing but honest, genuine and sincere when he speaks. “We’re extremely proud of everything you’ve done for the ICAC, and so thankful, as well. We want nothing more but for you to be happy, safe and secure. We’re so glad you were awarded with a damehood – you deserve it so, so much. And, please,”

He leans in a bit, murmuring, “Never listen to the Level Five agents. Their interests lie within their own agendas. Say true to who you are, and take no notice of them. Live your life, not their orders. Am I understood?”

_Obviously, the higher-up agents aren’t trustworthy in the slightest, if the Directors of the ICAC are saying that abbot them. I was right, then – there’s something going on with them. They’ve been up to something for a long, long time._

“Understood, Sir. But, could I just ask you something, please?” He nods.

“Of course you can.” You nod back, swallowing and clearing your throat. You keep your voice quiet, asking,

“The Level Fives have been pushing me quite hard for years now, and keep watching me. They’re always assessing me, and seem to want more from me. I was wondering if you knew why.”

For a moment, he gazes down at you, expression unreadable. Finally, he sighs just a little, replying, “Quite simply, ___, they’re absolutely terrified of you.”

Your face goes blank. You tilt your head, not understanding. “Sir? Why on earth would they be scared of me? They’re all two levels higher than me – they’ve got complete power and authority over me.”

He shakes his head. “They don’t, ___. They don’t control you at all, because we made it explicitly clear to them many years ago that we trust people like you much, much more than them, and that we have much more faith in you than in them. Do you want to know why?”

You nod, baffled. He chuckles. “Because your intentions are pure. You joined the ICAC to help people. They joined to gain power. They fought tooth and nail to get to the top rank, other than ours, so that they could monopolise the organisation for their own gains. We’ve kept them reined in, of course, making sure they haven’t done anything we don’t approve of. However, they’ve still used the ICAC to further their own agendas, and they’re fully aware that we know about it. So, then,”

He squeezes your shoulder now, eyes becoming somewhat sad. “When you first came to the ICAC all that time ago, when your father was alive and brought you in to teach you how to defend yourself, they saw your potential. They immediately saw that you would end up becoming extremely strong and capable of great things as an agent. As such, they wanted you inducted into the ICAC as fast as they could, so that they could keep control of you and make sure you didn’t gain power without them having any say about it. That’s why they offered you a place at your father’s funeral.”

A shiver rattles through you.

You can feel the agents glaring at you now, their sharp stares boring into your skull from behind. “Is that also… also why…”

“… you’ve been sent on jobs that you never should have gone anywhere near. Yes. They used your skill level and abilities, as well as a shortage in agents, to justify it, but I believe they sent you on those jobs in the hopes that something would happen to you.”

The hairs all over you stand on end. Finally, it all makes sense.

_They wanted to get rid of me. They felt threatened by me, so they tried to remove me entirely._

You nod slowly, processing this. “Oh.”

He moves his hand now, the other rising and both settling on your outer arms. Surprisingly, although it’s unexpected, you don’t feel uncomfortable or nauseous. It’s actually quite comforting. “However, you don’t have to worry about this anymore. We’ve been investigating them all, and have found some rather hideous skeletons in their closets. Believe me when I say they won’t be in power for much longer.”

“Wha-” You cut yourself off, genuinely shocked. “They’re- you’re-” You lower your voice. “You’re going to fire them?”

He nods. “Indeed. They’ve gone too far and put too many people in danger, particularly you, ___. You don’t need to worry about them, at all, from now on.” He grins just a little, telling you, “Now, I believe it’s my turn. Let Lucian know that he should be expecting a promotion offer soon, will you? Go and have fun with your friends, ___, please. For us, enjoy today. You will not be threatened anymore. Relax.”

Your heart soars with relief. You nod fiercely. “Thank you so much, Sir. I will.”

He simply hums, satisfied, before moving to join in with the game. You watch him go, stood alone. Your head turns, just enough to allow you to peek at the Level Five agents through your hair. They’re glaring at you, watching on with obvious disdain. You feel no fear at this, though, now that you know they won’t be able to hurt you anymore.

So, you brush your hair back, beam at them, and give them a cheery wave.

The bemusement on their faces is obvious. You almost laugh as you turn away, heading for your boys. The latter watch you go bounce over to them, and Byron and Albert separate in the line to let you stand between them. Byron tucks you under his shoulder, rubbing your upper arm idly. “What did the Director have to say to you? Are you alright?”

You can’t stop smiling. You simply hum, closing your eyes for a moment and leaning into his side. Then, you gaze up at him, murmuring, “I’m fine. Actually, I’m much, much more than fine. I couldn’t be better.” Your eyes settle on the male Director, as he stands before the target and shoots twice, hitting the ten both times. The other guests cheer loudly, proud and adoring and joyful, his wife included. “You don’t need to ask the Level Fives about why they won’t leave me alone. Everything’s okay, now.”

“Oh?” He blinks, expression betraying mild surprise. “Why is that?”

You just laugh a little, closing your eyes and focusing on the warmth of him around you. You feel Albert’s fingers ghost over your own, and your voice is loving when you answer, “You’ll see, soon enough. For now, we don’t have to worry about a thing. Let’s just be happy.”

They’re curious, of course, but they trust you. They always do. And they’d never refuse an order like that.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

Three hours, a shooting tournament, an archery tournament, and many, many photoshoots later, it’s six in the evening. Dusk has descended on the highlands, the mist intensifying around the castle like a protective blanket, obscuring it from the rest of the world. The sun is dipping down, sinking deeper in the sky and reaching out to the mountainous horizon, ready to kiss the world goodnight in a blaze of sunlit oranges, golds and reds. The castle is lit up now, the chandeliers, lamps and candles lining the interior and exterior bringing it to life in a beautiful mixture of whites, blues and silvers.

Inside, the humans are not nearly as elegant as the architecture, nor the environment around it.

Instead, nearly everyone is on the dancefloor. Alcohol having had enough time to thoroughly take over the bodies and minds of those in the room, the agents have for the most part shed their uniform’s jackets, leaving them in plain shirts instead. They dance about wildly, the music upbeat, fun and lively. It’s loud, to your dismay and that of many of the boys, despite you having asked the DJ to turn it down just a bit.

Her response? “It’s a party, sweetheart. Some people have bad hearing – a DJ only ever turns the music up, not down.”

You grumbled all the way back to your seat, to say the least.

The Directors and Level Five agents have all gone home, having had things to do. The former wished you well before leaving, both grinning conspiratorially, much to the confusion of your parents and brothers. They could only watch on as they both gave you friendly hugs, and the man whispered during his, “Remember, tell Lucian to expect the thing I mentioned earlier, and explain to him why. Alright?”

“Yes, Sir.” You had responded, giggling softly. He laughed as well, and then they both left, the Level Fives following behind rather glumly, irritated or uncomfortable or just outright annoyed.

Your family questioned you about it, but you dismissed it as nothing, deciding to tell them later on in the night.

And that time is now, as your mum is dragging you up, forcibly and bodily hauling from your seat with the boys toward the dance-floor.

“Mum!” You shriek, attempting to escape her clutches. She practically carries you onto the dance-floor. “I’ll dance in a bit! Stop it!”

“Oh, shush. Here you go, Lucian!” She chirps. You’re thrown forward, landing in solid, strong arms. One anchors itself around your back, and the other’s hand takes yours, moving you into position to dance. You groan, knowing it’s the aforementioned man, before standing up properly and looking up at him.

He smirks down at you. “Hello, daughter of mine.”

Your expression flattens. “Greetings, traitorous father of mine.”

He laughs somewhat sadistically, twirling you into a dance as a slower song starts to play. “Oh, don’t be dramatic. She was going to force you to dance anyway, even if it was with her. Let me have the experience of getting to dance with my daughter at a wedding, at least.” You roll your eyes, but don’t protest further, seeing other couples and random pairs of agents slow-dancing as well. Your other hand rises, resting on his shoulder. “So, what did the Director talk to you about earlier?”

You smirk up at him, feeling smug. “You.”

He blinks, expression betraying mild concern. “Me?”

Your head bobs up and down in a nod. “Yep.” Seeing that he’s probably panicking on the inside about what you could have been talking about in relation to him, you sigh, explaining, “You know the way the Level Fives have picked on me for years, and we haven’t known exactly why?”

He nods. “Well, the Directors think that it’s because they essentially felt threatened by me because of what I could do, and because the former told them straight that they trust me a lot, but not the Level Fives, because they’ve been working for their own agendas as opposed to the ICAC’s.”

You give him a second to process this, then go on, elaborating, “So, they inducted me into the ICAC so fast to get me under their control immediately, before then pushing me harder and harder to, in essence, attempt to get rid of me. They threw me under the bus with training and jobs in an effort, the Director thinks, to hurt me or, presumably, get me killed entirely.”

Lucian swallows heavily, his grip on your hand tightening. He spins you both again, and you squeeze his hand gently. “And this relates to you because the Directors are planning on dismissing them all. He told me to tell you this, as a result of that: expect a promotion offer soon.”

He blinks, expression collapsing with shock. “A promotion? To Level Five status?”

You smile smugly, humming out, “Yep. If you want to move up, you’re going to be able to soon. Congrats, dad – all that slave driving has paid off.”

Before he can respond, an arm hooks around your waist, tugging you away from Lucian and into a familiar hold. Xander’s face hovers above your own as he mimics Lucian’s position, then twirls you away from him, smiling at his dad sweetly. “It’s my turn to dance with her! Go find mum!”

Lucian practically floats off the dance-floor, and you wonder absently if he’s going into shock. You snort, holding Xander’s shoulder while he guides you into a simple dance. “I think I just sent dad into clinical shock.”

He erupts with laughter. “What? How?”

You shake your head, giggling out in a conspiratorial whisper, “Don’t tell anyone else this; I’m probably not meant to tell anyone other than dad, but I imagine he’d tell you, mum and Tobias anyway.” He nods, leaning down. You push up onto your tiptoes, murmuring, “They’re going to offer him a promotion soon. If he takes it, he’ll be a Level Five agent, because the current Level Fives are going to be dismissed soon for messing around with the ICAC.”

His expression is overtaken my amazement and joy instantly. He whirls you around, lifting you off the floor, while he cries, “That’s great! He really deserves it! I’m so happy for him.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm, humming. “He does deserve it. I am as well.” Your eyebrow arches up, lips doing the same. “Keep it to yourself okay? It’s our little secret.”

He winks. “Our little secret, then. Unless you get to tell Tobias, which I imagine will happen anytime now-”

“Swiped!”

You’re stolen from Xander as if your assailant had been listening to the conversation, sweeping you out of the latter’s grip and into theirs. You know it’s Tobias from the word itself, as well as his voice, and laugh loudly at the smug smirk he gives his twin. He guides you away from your brother, snickering out, “I heard my name. What were you saying about me, baby sis?”

You hold onto his shoulder like you did with Xander and Lucian, drawling, “Well, I was saying that you’re a numpty, and that it’s hilarious how ticklish you are, and…” He’s glaring at you heatedly. A sweet smile, tinted with just a bit of poison, graces your lips. “I’m joking. He was wondering if I’d get an opportunity to tell you what I just told him.”

He grunts, releasing your waist to twirl you once, then tug you against him again. “And what was that?”

You lean up, telling him quietly, “Dad’s going to be offered a promotion soon, to be a Level Five agent.”

He stares at you for a moment, blinks, then asks, “That’s it?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, that’s it. It’s a big thing – that’s the highest rank he can have, at least unless the Directors suddenly decide to abdicate their positions. Be happy for him.”

He sighs, twirling you slowly. “I am happy for him, idiot. I was just expecting something bad, to be honest, if that’s what the Directors were talking about.” He pauses. “Hang on. What about the current Level F-”

Before he can finish, a third human thief dives in, bringing you into the cradle of their arms tenderly. They lead you away from Tobias, and you call back to him, “Ask Xander or dad! See you later!”

You hear him swearing in the second that you remain near him, before he’s then lost to the crowd of people around him. You glance up, seeing who’s stolen you this time.

Leo gazes down at you, expression loving and adoring. “Hey, Princess.”

You immediately start smiling, your own eyes adopting a soft, affectionate shine of their own. “Hey, Prince.”

He grins, coaxing you closer to him, so your bodies are pressed together. He takes your hand, and your other settles on his shoulder. “Sorry for stealing you from Tobias.” He apologises, the grin suddenly mischievous. He leans down, whispering, “I was getting pretty jealous, seeing you dancing with him and Xander.”

You try your hardest to breathe through the blush you can feel rising in your cheeks. “Leo…”

He chuckles lowly, feeling you drop your head against his shoulder. He rests his chin atop your head, sighing out, “I just wanted a chance to dance with you. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to.”

You nod, basking in his intoxicating scent and warmth around you. “I think the last time was in Year 11, when we were sixteen. It was for our P.E. dance exam.” You burst into giggles, recalling, “Yeah, it was! Because that’s when I ended up being the partner for all nine of you when we had to do a two-person dance, and the teacher was worried I’d end up messing one of them up because I had so many to learn.”

He joins in with your giggles, responding, “Oh, yeah! I remember that! And Alyn was so embarrassed, because he wouldn’t pick a song for it and you ended up pretty much threatening him with a salsa song if he didn’t choose!”

You both fall about with giggles, barely dancing around the chortles. Once you both settle down, he kisses your hair very gently, breathing out, “We’re not going to steal you from each other like I stole you from Tobias. We’re far too mature for that.” He spins you around once more, leaning you back into a low dip. His lips brush over your ear, and he utters softly, words dripping with love, passion and a familiar but foreign lilt,

“ _Ich liebe dich, Süsse._ ”  _I love you, Sweetie._

With that, he arcs you up and then twirls you out and away from him, only holding onto your hand. Your other one reaches out, only to be taken by a strong, firm grip, tugging you into its owner’s arms. You let Leo go, ending up embraced against a solid chest.

The hand holding yours tells you everything you need to know. Alyn.

You glance up at him, seeing him smiling just a little, expression relaxed and eyes uncharacteristically soft. You blink. “Alyn?”

He snorts quietly, winding an arm around your waist as you hold his shoulder. He leads you into a rhythmic, steady dance, circling with you, weaving between the other couples on the dance-floor. “Hey. You look so confused right now, it’s kind of funny.”

You huff at that, cheeks puffing out indignantly. “Because… well…” You trail off, not exactly able to say what you want to without fear of someone hearing. Alyn rolls his eyes but leans down, letting you mumble into his ear, “Leo just said he loves me, but in German. I don’t know whether that breaks the rules or not.”

Much to your increased confusion, he only laughs lowly, not moving his head away from yours. When he speaks, you feel his breath wafting over your neck, and it sends shivers rattling through you.

“It’s not. We’ve all got a plan – we’re going to each dance with you, only briefly, to avoid causing any problems or confusion. We can tell you… that,” You can feel the heat exuding from his cheeks. He must be blushing, and pretty hard, as well. “But it has to be in another language, so that it’s much less likely that someone might overhear and then understand.”

That makes sense. Your mouth pops open, mind suddenly filled with clarity. “Oh, I get it. That’s sensible.”

He just laughs harder now, seeming very strangely happy and at ease, but the sound and sight of it just sends your heart racing a mile a minute and makes you grin beatifically. “Well, great. It’s nice to know it surprises you that we can come up with sensible plans.”

You flick him on the forehead, hard enough to make him curse and jerk back, scowling at you. “Oh, shush. I didn’t mean it like that.” You rest your face against his shoulder carefully, wary of your makeup, before asking, “So, what language are you going to use?”

He scoffs, the arm around your middle constricting just a bit harder. Your eyelids flutter shut, and his hand tightens around your own. “Geez. I only know basic Spanish. What do you expect?”

You laugh into his shoulder, feeling his lips settle against the crown of your head. He tugs you closer, and you try not to focus too much on the sensation of his muscled torso against your own. “Sorry. That’s true.” His thumb fiddles with the ring on yours, nudging it up and down absently, the touch almost ticklish. “But Spanish is beautiful. It’s a romance language, after all.”

You can just tell he’s blushing harder, without even looking at him. You hear him swallow thickly, then kiss your hair deeply, slowly. His lips move to hover against the shell of your ear, where he murmurs, tone husky and rough but words pronounced like silk,

“ _Te amo, Princesa_.”  _I love you, Princess._

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. He suddenly turns faster, rotating around with increased speed. New arms slip around your middle, coaxing you into their grip, not breaking the spin once. The cradle you against them, embracing your waist and head, a hand settled gently against your hair.

“Good evening, Princess.”

Giles.

You glance up at the said Christophe, and he gazes down at you with a look of pure, unadulterated, unabashed love, those beautiful amber hues practically molten with affection. A majestic, beatific smile graces his lips, and you find yourself mimicking the expression. “Good evening, Giles.”

He chuckles, feeling your hands slide up his chest, then loop around his neck. The hand on your head descends to your waist, and he studies you closely, turning you both in a gradual, soothing rotation. “I unfortunately only have a moment with you, since we have just been informed that there may be more entertainment after this song. As such, we will all have to be very brief with you.” His lips find your temple, kissing softly, before he murmurs tenderly,

“ _Je t’aime, ma précieuse._ ”  _I love you, my precious._

You’re spun away from him again, swept into a tight embrace. Arms curl around you, embracing tightly, but more urgently than Leo or Alyn. Louis’ familiar scent enters your senses, and you feel his familiar form around you as he cradles your head and back, lips settled against your forehead. “I’m sorry we don’t have more time.” You barely have time to adjust to the new touch when he kisses your skin tenderly, mumbling,

“ _Je t’aime, mon ange._ ”  _I love you, my angel._

Another twirl sends you whirling into Sid’s arms. He guides you away from the centre of the dance-floor, moving more toward the edges where it’s quieter. He takes one of your hands, smirking down at you, before he raises your hand and kisses the ring they bought you for Christmas. He then does the same with your cheek. “Brace yourself, Princess. Your mother’s got something up her sleeve and you’re not going to like it.”

He snorts at your mildly concerned expression, blowing out a puff of air in your ear teasingly. You jump, squeaking, to which he laughs out heartily,

“ _Te iubesc, Prinţesă._ ”  _I love you, Princess._

You’re slipped from Sid’s arms smoothly, embraced instead by none other than Robert. He cups your cheek, smiling beautifully, while his other arm settles around your waist. He nuzzles his nose against yours, just like he always does, giving you the sweetest, most loving eskimo kiss you’ve ever had.

Your heart flutters, more so when he purrs out, voice low and vibrating through his chest, “Two things. First, prepare yourself for you’re the next few minutes. Secondly, we need to talk about the graduation and award ceremony together, all of us, soon if not tonight. Exams are coming up, and we’ve neglected to make any plans for it.”

You nod, noses still tickling against each other just a little. He hums, kissing the tip of yours playfully.

“ _Jeg elsker deg, Princesse._ ”  _I love you, Princess._

He releases you, sliding back and away from you. At the same time, new hands slide around your waist from behind, locking together against your stomach. A chin props itself up on your shoulder, and you feel a familiar earring nudge you, the cool metal settling on the warm flesh of the left side of your neck. Black hair. Byron.

“Hello, Princess. I trust you’re aware that we have very little time to spend with you?” You nod, laughing out,

“Yeah, I’m aware. It’s a bit overwhelming, getting spun from person to person every ten seconds.” He chuckles, the sound a rich, deep rumble reverberating through his chest and into yours.

“I can imagine. Apologies. Only myself, Albert and Nico remain, now.” He nuzzles his face into your cheek for a brief moment, then sighs, breathing out,

“ _Ya lyublyu tebya, dorogaya_.”  _I love you, Sweetheart._

You’ve barely processed the words by the time Byron twirls you around, spinning you in at least three rotations. Amidst it, you feel him release you, and then a very ginger, careful hand settles on your middle, another catching one of your own.

You stop, finding yourself guided into a somewhat formal, controlled dance with Albert. He blushes, eyes averted, before he clears his throat and leans down. “I detest having to do this is suddenly, when I haven’t otherwise spoken to you, but the situation calls for it.” He tugs you against him, letting your hand go to press your head against his chest, hiding your view of his face.

“ _Ya lyublyu tebya, dorogoy_.”  _I love you, Darling._

Finally, a last pair of arms hook around your middle, cuddling you from behind. Albert slips away, and Nico’s voice purrs out in your ear, giving you little shivers up and down your spine.

“Hey, Princess. It’s almost time, so we need to get moving. Okay?” You blink, glancing around at him, expression confused. He giggles. “You’ll see in a minute for now…” he turns you around, resting his forehead against yours and gazing down at you, wide amber eyes molten with love and joy.

“ _Te amo, mi hermosa princesa._ ”  _I love you, my beautiful princess._

As soon as he words leave his lips, without giving you a chance to respond, he’s dragging you off the dance-floor and to the fringes of the room. The other boys are waiting there, you see, and Xander and Tobias are stood a little way away, watching Nico escort you over amusedly. When you reach the others, you blink, finding yourself increasingly baffled. “What’s going o-”

“Okay, everyone! The groom’s got an announcement! Listen up!” The DJ declares, turning the music down despite her earlier statement. Those dancing, which is practically every single remaining guest other than yourselves, all stop and turn to your mum and Lucian, now stood at their seats at the main table. Lucian has a microphone, and waits until he’s able to be heard before raising it and speaking.

“Right. So, if anyone knows me, it’s that, while I’m not traditional in some respects, I’m a pretty traditional person in general. My beautiful wife is the same, but we don’t know whether a certain wedding tradition which is rather old would be appreciated by all of you.” He explains. You narrow your eyes, mind whirling.

A wedding tradition?

The bouquet toss, perhaps?

“One part of it is the bouquet toss.” There’s a series of hoots and cheers, predominantly from the females of the guests. The blood drains from your face; for all the guests know, you’re single and of age to marry. You’ll have to take part. “So, do we want to do the bouquet toss?”

The cheers get louder, and are accompanied by shouts and confirmations from the women. Lucian smirks. “Right. So, we’ll do that. However, there’s also another tradition which is becoming increasingly less popular; the garter toss, which is then combined with the bouquet toss.”

It registers a second later, mind recalling what that means.

The bouquet toss would happen, the garter would be removed from my mum by Lucian, and then thrown to the bachelors of the guests. He’d then put the garter on the bachelorette who caught the bouquet.

_Oh, hell no._

You squeak, panicked, and dart forward to the nearest but tallest of the boys; that would be Giles. You launch yourself behind him, hiding your frame from everyone using his body and gripping his jacket out of fear. The boys howl with boyish laughter, and Lucian’s sinister, almost sadistic chuckle echoes through the room from the speakers. “Did I just see my bachelorette daughter try to hide from us?”

There’s another bout of cheers. The men roar in agreement, and one shouts, “Cheer if we should do the garter toss!”

The hollers and hoots are deafening. You can feel your insides recoiling from the thought.

“Alright, then. The bouquet toss comes first, so all bachelorettes, stand on the dance-floor. The bride will throw her bouquet in a moment.” Lucian instructs. Giles glances over his shoulder, smiling amusedly at your terrified expression.

“What do you wish to do, Princess?” He asks. You shake your head.

“I’m not doing it! Imagine if I got it, and then another guy got the garter!” He tilts his head, looking confused. You gape. “You all do know what this tradition is, right?”

He blinks. “I thought it was just the same as the bouquet toss, to see which groom will be wedded next.”

You groan, shaking your head violently. The boys all turn to you, apparently unfamiliar with the tradition. You speak to them all now, explaining in a slightly shrill tone, “The bachelor who catches the garter has to put it on the bachelorette who catches the bouquet!”

All of them freeze, paling. You can see the realisation setting in by the second.

“Come on, little sister!” Xander’s voice suddenly sings to your left. You turn, eyes wide.

Only for Tobias to lean down, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder in a split second. He makes sure to keep the skirts of your dress flattened against your thighs as he walks toward the dance-floor, snickering, “Now, we get to see just how far they’re willing to go to protect you.”

“Tobias, put me down! I don’t want to do this! Stop it, right now!” You glare at Xander, walking behind Tobias and watching you with a graceful smile. “Xander, what the hell are you doing? You know what’s going on! Why are you making me do this?”

He just winks, offering no explanation nor excuse. You slap Tobias’ back, hard enough to make him groan, and snap, “Put me down, fucker!”

There’s a round of boisterous laughter from nearly all the guests, who hear your swear loud and clear, watching Tobias bring you over to the group of bachelorettes. You squirm and whack at his head and back, but he simply ignores the hits, taking you through the group of females until he’s in the centre. There, he puts you down, calling, “Keep her there, ladies! She single but shy!”

He slips out, and the agents all make sure to move around you so you can’t get out. You groan, trying to push through, but to no avail. Upon glancing around you, you see Mimi stood next to you, and she gives you a teasing smile. “So what if you catch it? It’s just a superstition, and besides – your boys might catch it for you. Come on, even you would enjoy them putting the garter on you, right?”

You give her an incredulous look. “That’s debatable.”

“Ready girls?” You hear your mum ask. The girls all cheer loudly, making you wince. “Three, two, one, catch!”

The next few seconds make very little sense to you.

There’s a pause, followed by screams. Suddenly, the group of females seems to sway, moving about in sync and shoving you with them. You almost fall but right yourself, feeling something whack you on the side of your head. There’s a thud, followed by several screams and yells. Mimi is pushed into you, stumbling over you and the others around her.

And then she’s falling, collapsing hard. She slams into your back, taking you down with her.

You hit the floor on your front, pain searing through your torso and hips. You see almost all the other girls down, and feel the weight of at least two people on top of you, crushing the air out of your lungs. You cough, wheezing for breath. Atop you, you feel Mimi shift, then gasp out, “Hell no. I’m not having it. I’m only here because my mum made me.”

Her hand moves, shoving itself under your stomach temporarily. Cheeks flushing, you squeak, jumping with shock. She giggles, although it’s slightly panted. “Congrats, ___!”

You send her a wide-eyed, breathless look, exclaiming, “Wait! Why did you-”

She doesn’t let you finish. She leans in close, pecking your cheek very lightly. Then, she sings out, lips close to your ear while your eyes squeeze shut, “Oh, you didn’t know? Oops – I thought you knew. Sorry! I’m not interested in guys.”

With that unexpected bombshell of a statement, she sits up, then clambers off you. The weight of the second person leaves as well, and the other women around you start to get up with the help of the male agents.

Immediately, you feel familiar hands on you, undoubtedly of Xander and Tobias. They tug you up, and Tobias reaches under you very briefly. Then, they pull you out of the huddle of people and to the side, where you can be seen by your mum, Lucian and the boys.

And then, Xander tugs you into his side, and Tobias wraps your fingers around what you realise is the bouquet. The latter speaks, crowing sarcastically, “Look at that. The one girl who didn’t want it ended up getting it.”

Xander pecks your forehead, cooing, “Aw, we’re going to see our sister’s wedding, too!”

You hate them both so much right now.

The guests laugh again, as do your parents. Lucian takes the microphone once more. “Wonderful.” He turns to your mum. “Shall we?”

There are cheers as they both walk around the table, Lucian taking one of the chairs on the way. Your mum, blushing like mad, sits down in it in the centre of the dance floor, and Lucian, equally as red now, kneels before her.

Your hands fly up to your eyes, body rejecting everything about this immediately. “Oh my God! No! What the fuck?”

You whip around, away from them, using the bouquet to shield your face and eyes. You hear Xander clear his throat, and then Tobias sigh, amidst the deafening hoots and hollers from the guests. “Well,” The former laughs out, sounding as awkward as you feel. “This is certainly a way to ruin the newly-established respect I had for both of them.”

You shake your head, feeling Tobias tug you into his chest, letting you use it as an opaquer shield than your hands and bouquet. He rubs your back soothingly. “It’s almost over.”

Thankfully, he’s right. A few seconds later, there’s a last cheer, and then Lucian starts to speak, apparently into the microphone, again. “Okay! Time for the garter toss. Bachelors, get ready to catch it!” He pauses. “Boys! Aren’t you going to join in? None of you have partners, as far as I’m aware.”

Oh, Lord. You somehow don’t even want to know if your boys are going to participate or not, because it’s bad for you if you don’t, but probably bad for them, in terms of embarrassment, if they do.

You lift your head just as every single one of your boys moves. They all but bound over to the dance-floor, expressions determined and focused.

_Are they participating, so that another guy won’t be able to put it on me?_

Your heart warms at the thought, despite the fact that they might be uncomfortable doing this. You can see your mum’s garter in Lucian’s hand, white and frilly with blue embellishments sewn into it. He raises it, counting down into the microphone to the collection of males before him. “Three, two, one, catch!”

He chucks it forward, into the middle of the group.

But one person in there towers above the rest, easily the tallest person in the entire room. Sid.

And he merely lifts his hand, fingers snatching the garter out of the air before it even starts to fall.

There’s another cheer, as well as several whistles and catcalls. Your knees weaken, heart pounding away and blood pressure increasing. You don’t know if your face is devoid of blood from mortification, or bright red from embarrassment.

Sid’s going to put your mum’s garter on you. There’s something so, so, so wrong about this.

“Congrats, Sid. Come on, ___. Time for your moment in the spotlight, whether you want it or not.” Lucian encourages.

You back up instantly, only for Xander and Tobias to take your arms, dragging you over to the chair your mum was sat on. You struggle against them, jabbing your ribs at them and babbling incoherently about not wanting to do this. They ignore you, of course, before sitting you down in the chair, and then Tobias leans down, murmuring,

“You ain’t getting out of this, sis. We’ve missed nearly two decades of having a sister to embarrass to hell and back, so consider this the first real time you’ll regret having brothers.” He kisses your cheek, and Xander does the same on the other side. Tobias snickers darkly. “Don’t try and get up. Love you.”

Xander just chuckles, straightening up, while Tobias does the same. They both step back as Sid approaches, cheeks just a little bit rosy. He’s smirking, and doesn’t seem too concerned about this. You can feel yourself flushing for definite now, and continue to hold the bouquet up, half obscuring your face from him. Sid knees before you, and the sight is far too similar to a simulation of a wedding between you and him for your comfort, considering the setting and attire.

Your pulse is thundering in your ears. Your insides are buzzing, skittering and prickling, nerves haywire and hormones a complete mess. You can’t speak at all.

“Hey.” Sid finally murmurs lowly, so much so that only you can hear him. He moves in close, so he can drop his forehead against yours, eliciting a collection of coos many an “Aw” from the guests. “You okay?”

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to whisper out, body now trembling from adrenaline and the pressure of everyone watching something so intimate. “Do I look okay?”

He grins, laughing quietly. “Nah, you look like you’re going to pass out.” You duck your face, even more embarrassed at that. He just kisses your forehead, asking, “Does it matter which leg I put it on?”

When you shake your head, he snorts softly, but then his lips leave your forehead. You feel his fingers touch the calf of the leg on your less dominant side, and it’s almost impossible not to jump in response, warmth from his fingertips seeping into your leg. He stretches the garter around your wedge, then up to your shin. He lets go of your calf, looking amazingly calm and collected despite his blush. He slides it up your leg, higher and higher.

The sensation sends tingles through you, deep inside, and makes the muscles in your thigh quiver. He smirks wickedly, seeing this since he’s so close. It only serves to make you admittedly even hotter, witnessing such a dangerous expression when his hands are inches away from the skirts of your dress.

You lift your thigh, just slightly. His hands disappear under your skirts, raising the garter up. His flesh brushes over yours. The feeling of him touching your inner thigh when you part your legs slightly sends a shudder through your body, one that you barely manage to stifle.

And then, he’s done, and it sits snugly on your leg. He withdraws his hands, giving you a cooler smile. “You alright?”

You can only nod. You think you’re lying. Scrap that; you’re lying without a shadow of a doubt

It’s enough for him apparently, though; as everyone cheers and Lucian says something you’re not even paying attention to, he takes your hands, standing and helping you to your feet. Your knees feel worryingly weak, but you manage to hide it, rising. That is, until he suddenly leans down, sweeping his arms under your thighs and around your back, cradling you against his chest princess style.

“Sid!” His name leaves your lips in a strangled cry. This is not going to go down well with the boys. “What are you doing? Stop it! The others! You can’t-”

“Love, calm down. We agreed to this.” He interrupts you gently, taking you back to the table where you’ve all been sitting, with the seats with coloured ribbons. The DJ whistles, singing out suggestively,

“Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn! Looks like we’re going to see that wedding real soon, am I right?” The guests cheer and shout in agreement, all the agents clapping in approval at Sid carrying you away in the carry that’s also called “Bridal style”. You groan, covering your face again, as he sits you down on your chair. “Okay! We’ve still got the night to dance away, people! Let me see you all shaking it up on that dance-floor!”

As everyone returns to dancing, the boys make their way over swiftly. They take their seats, Sid included, as you hunch over with your face in your hands, trying to calm your rather hot-and-bothered body and burning skin. Robert and Giles, on either side of you, rub your back and arms soothingly, the others watching on, genuinely wondering if you’re going to pass out. They try to talk to you, to get you to respond, but you can’t do it. You’re too embarrassed and mortified and simultaneously turned on.

When your mum and Lucian wander over to see you, and inspect the mental damage they’ve inflicted on you, you say nothing to them. You can only glare through your fingers.

That doesn’t stop you from punching your brothers in the stomach when they do the same.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

Later that night, the party has well ended and the last of the guests, absolutely hammered, have left.

By the time everything’s been sorted with the owners of the castle, the DJ and the photographer, it’s nearing midnight. You stand outside, chilled from the icy winds and clutching your shawl to yourself, as your mum and Lucian stop before you, the limo behind them. Xander and Tobias remain on either side of you, doing their best to shield you from the wind.

“Well,” Lucian sighs out, smiling in satisfaction. “You guys know what comes next – we told you this beforehand. We’re off to Darmera for a week. You’ll all be fine fending for yourselves.”

You nod, speaking around the chattering of your teeth and wobbling of your legs. “We’ll be fine. We can take care of ourselves.”

You mum smiles, head drifting up and down. “Good. Thank you, all of you. You’re all so grown-up and responsible, I feel like I can act like a kid again.” She grins when you roll your eyes, then hugs you tightly. You return the embrace, squeezing her tightly and embedding the sensation into your mind. She strokes your hair, kissing it tenderly. “I love you, ___. Thank you for all the help with the wedding. I couldn’t have gotten through it without you.”

“You’re welcome.” She releases you to hug Tobias, and Lucian embraces you now, arms strong and firm around you. You use just as much force, feeling him peck the crown of your head. “Have fun, dad. See you in a week!”

He laughs quietly, nodding and rubbing your back. “Indeed, we will, daughter. Thank you.” He disengages, only to then cup your face in one hand, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Truly, ___, I’m grateful for all you’ve done for us over the years. You mean the world to me.”

You smile softly, nodding. “And you mean the world to me, both of you. All of you, actually.”

His eyes sparkle, warming with love. Your mum hugs Xander, and Lucian does the same with Tobias, before then hugging Xander as well. They both step toward the limo, your mum calling, “Okay, you lot, we’re off! Call us if you need anything at all. Lock all the doors and windows if you’re out, no parties unless you call and get the okay from us first, no alcohol, smoking, drugs-”

You groan, interrupting, “Mum, we get it. We wouldn’t do any of that and you know it.”

She winks. “I know you wouldn’t. I just like being overbearing every now and again.” Her eyes touch on Xander and Tobias. “She’s allowed to bring the boys over, of course, because she won’t do anything she shouldn’t with them. They can sleep over as well; they’ve done it for years.”

They both nod. Xander tucks you under his shoulder, while Tobias rubs your cool arm, the former speaking. “We know. We don’t mind them coming over – we trust them.”

She nods once more. Your parents wave, calling their goodbyes, and you reciprocate them with your brothers. In seconds, they’re pulling away from the castle in the limo, the lights of it blinding amidst the pitch blackness of the highland night-time.

You sigh at this point, chirping, “Right. Shall we go home, boys?” You turn to look behind you, eyes settling on your boyfriends, waiting patiently in a perfect line. “What do we think? Sleepover time?”

There’s shows of agreement from them all, smile or nods or grins or winks all around. You hum, expression softening. “Good. Then let’s go, because I’m freezing to death here.”

They all laugh at that, your brothers included. You head to Sid’s car with the latter two, getting in in the middle row with them after take the rear two seats. Giles takes the passenger seat, with Sid driving, and Byron, Albert, Robert, Louis and Nico go in Byron’s car. Sid calls Byron through the Bluetooth, telling him to follow him since he’s got the satnav set up to head back to your house. As he’s doing this, you drop your head onto Xander’s shoulder, and Tobias takes one of your hands, his skin pleasantly warm around your own.

“God, ___, you’re freezing.” Xander breathes out, shrugging off his blazer and tucking it around your shoulders. You snuggle into it, trying to conduct the warmth from it into your own body. Sid turns the heating up, and Xander shifts so he can hug you back against his chest, helping you warm up. The silhouettes of the mountains in the dark blur past as Sid drives down the hill. Tobias tugs your legs up, atop his own, before taking his blazer off and draping it over them.

“Thank you, big brothers.” You mumble, eyes drifting closed. “It’s not fair. How are you all so warm all the time? Boys just never seem to get cold.” You make a face. “I’m kidding. There’s biological reasons for why it tends to happen, but still. Bullshit.”

Sid snorts at that. “That’s our princess. Going from diplomatic and immaculately polite to declaring bullshit in seconds flat.”

You smirk just a little, giggling out, “You love me for it, though.”

You peek at him in the rear-view mirror, just managing to catch him rolling his eyes, the hues glinting as the lights from a cottage pass by near the car. “Yeah, I do. We all do, numpty.”

You stick your tongue out playfully, then close your eyes again, musing absently, “So, all of the major holidays are down except for Easter. We’ve got that coming up, Nico’s birthday, Albert’s birthday, exams, the graduation ceremony, and then Sid, Robert and Byron’s birthdays, which takes us up to next Christmas.” Your eyes drift open once more, snapping to Giles. “Hang on. Didn’t we need to talk about the graduation ceremony?”

Said ceremony is a joint prom and award ceremony held by the Royal Wysterian Academy annually, for the leavers of that year. It’s both a party and a ceremony, the party being held later in the night and the awards being given out earlier on. There are endless amounts of awards, for potentially thirteen years of attendance at the academy, and so it takes a solid three hours to get through. Each subject has its own awards, but then there are more significant and rounded ones, like those for achieving high grades in their exams, or having good attendance and punctuality, being well-behaved and helping out around the school. If you recall correctly, there are about four-hundred awards available in total.

The academy doesn’t do the whole prom king and queen thing, but instead has a vote on the single student most adored, respected and liked by the other students; the Student of Absolute Excellence award. Anyone can nominate themselves or be nominated by others for it, and all the students can vote for one student for a period of time near the end of the year. The winner is usually made a tribute by the college, sometimes with help from friends, after the former have counted the votes, some time before the ceremony. That way, those closest to the winner can make their tribute as personal and meaningful as they can.

You’ve barely thought about that award, if you’re honest. You don’t know if you’ll end up getting any at all, but you’re certainly not getting your hopes up. You don’t really care – you’ve got all the reward you need by having your boys and family with you.

Back to the present, Giles nods, answering, “You are correct. We need to discuss what we’ll be doing in terms of picking each other up for the ceremony, and what we might need to help out with because we’re Prefects. I have no doubt that the college will request for us to help with setting things up nearer the date of the ceremony.”

You nod, burrowing down in Xander’s blazer further, eyes drifting to the still, silent, silhouetted world blurring past you. “Okay. Well, we’ve got time still. It’s usually somewhere roundabouts the 31st of August, isn’t it? Or the first of September? Two weeks after the exam results, or somewhere around that?”

He makes a sound of agreement. “It is.”

Sid snorts. “We need to decide who we’re all voting for, too. We can only vote once, and I’m guessing we’ll be voting for each other.” His eyes flit to your face in the rear-view mirror, just as you look up from the window. “Dibs on voting for the princess.”

Your cheeks gain a dusting of pink, although it can’t be seen in the dark. Leo sighs heavily from the back seats, whining, “That’s not fair. I was going to dibs on voting for her.”

Sid just laughs darkly. “Go hard or go home, buddy. Sucks for you.”

You glance up at Leo, giving him a sweet, teasing smile. “It’s okay. You can vote for Alyn!” He narrows his eyes, and you hear his twin fake balking, causing you to look at him instead. “Or, do you want to vote for Leo, Alyn? He could always vote for Giles.”

Alyn pales. Giles and Leo lock eyes in the rear-view mirror. You can practically feel the tension sizzling between the president and vice president of the student council.

“No, thank you.” Giles declines, crossing his arms. “If Sid is voting for ___, I plan to ask Robert to vote for me.”

You squeal quietly, feeling giddy at how close the two are. “Aw.”

Leo just glares at Giles, retorting, “The offer wasn’t there, buddy.” He sighs. “I guess I can vote for Nico.”

“Nope.” You disagree. “Byron will want to vote for him, most likely, and Nico will probably vote for Byron back, meaning Albert will probably vote for Robert. Robert will probably vote for Giles, who may or may not vote for Sid,” You glance at him for confirmation. The amber-hued male nods with a smile. “Sid will vote for me, and Louis will, knowing all of this, probably vote for Alyn. That leaves me to vote for someone, and you and Alyn, but neither of you can vote for me. So, you’ll need to vote for Louis or Albert, and I’ll then vote for you, Leo. Alyn, you’ll need to vote for one of them as well. Make sense?”

They all go silent for a moment.

“Christ,” Alyn grumbles. “You had that sussed quick.”

You grin, singing out, “I know my boys well!”

Giles grins majestically. Sid lets himself do the same, features lighting up and eyes softening. Leo shakes his head, but he smiles very lovingly as well, and even Alyn allows himself a small smile. Xander and Tobias chuckle, both offering you high-fives. You accept them happily.

The rest of the ride involves you all talking to the others in Byron’s car through the phone, using the car’s Bluetooth, to sort out what you can do for the ceremony. You find yourself becoming more and more drowsy as time goes on, lulled by the boys’ voices, the purring of the car and the warmth coming from Xander and Tobias. Eventually, your eyes drift shut, and you fall asleep in Xander’s arms, expression peaceful and blissful at long last.

The boys just smile, seeing this. They don’t wake you, even when you all arrive in Wysteria. Xander hands you to Giles when he gets out and offers to take you, carrying you inside like a princess. They leave you to your sleep, taking you inside and upstairs.

You stir a little up there, just enough to register that you need to brush your teeth, get dressed and take your makeup off. You zombie your way through this, and Leo and Nico help with the makeup, very gently and carefully wiping at your face to remove it. You’re practically melting into their arms by the time they’re done, exhaustion from waking up eighteen hours ago catching up with you. It almost melts them, feeling you leaning into them both, drifting between dreams and reality like a ghost.

Soon, you’re all in bed. Breaking the tradition of the typical trios, Byron, Giles and Sid sleep with you on your bed, tucking your comparatively much smaller frame between theirs.

You barely register the sensation, but you know they’re there. They always are. Maybe you’ll never marry, but you don’t need to.

They’ve already made their vows to you, and you’ve made yours to them. You’ve all, already, promised your lives and futures to each other, sworn by the strongest of bonds and sealed by love.

**♡** **♔** **♡**


	14. Part XIV | Night | Final | Intraunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never thought it was possible to love so many, but life proved you wrong.
> 
> You fought through the hardships of youth with them. You emerged from the edge of death with them, have learnt and come to understand humanity with them. You’ve all realised that humans are not simple, that love is not easy. You’ve accepted who you are, and have allowed yourself to love them after all this time.
> 
> Amidst the joy of having them close at long last, something is coming. A threat looms over all of you, lurking in the darkness around the light your love emits. Only time stands between you and inevitable danger.
> 
> College is rough, but this is something else. You’ve protected them for a long time. Now, they must protect you, or lose you entirely, no matter how much it hurts. Can your relationship with them endure through, or will it crumble under the pressure?
> 
> Your union must fight on, or else it will surrender to this unforgiving world and fall apart, taking each and every one of you with it.

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**9 th May 2017 | College Year 2**

It’s time.

You stand before the academy, students milling about around you. Hysteria buzzes in the air. Screams, shouts, moans and groans fill the early morning air with animation. Your heart thuds hard, thoughts whirling.

_Today is the first exam, and we’ve all got it. After this, it’s exam after exam right until the end of June._

You inhale deeply, doing your best to calm your nerves. The next month and a half is easily going to be one of the hardest things you’ll ever go through.

But, you’ve revised and done your best. You’ve put as much effort in as you can while taking care of yourself. Your conscience is clear – you’ve done all you can.

“Okay, guys.” You breathe out, closing your eyes for just a moment, as the sun peers through a break in the clouds. You can feel their eyes on you from your sides and back. “This is it. It’s the start of the end. Are we ready?”

A hand slips into yours. You instantly know it’s Leo’s. “We’re ready, Princess. We’ve done all we can with revision, so whatever happens, happens. We can only be proud of ourselves from here on out.”

You smile softly, letting out a little hum. “True.” Your eyes open once more, and you glance around your soulmates, murmuring, “Then let’s go, and do our best. They can’t ask of any more from us.”

There are nods, smiles, grins and smirks all around. You squeeze Leo’s hand, then release it, making your way toward the sports hall. Many of the nervous students seem to calm a little as you walk past them, your boys following, all of you determined and focused in one way or another. They start to fall in behind your group gradually, taking comfort in your calmness.

You head inside, hoping and wishing for the best for yourself and your boys. After that, you shut off, switching into full-throttle.

_With all I’ve dealt with in the past nine months, I can cope with this. We all can, together._

**♡** **♔** **♡**

**18 th August 2017 | Summer Holidays, Post-College**

 The weeks fly by. Exam after exam comes and goes, some feeling better than others, some simply a question mark, others unknown.

Before you know it, you’re done.

The boys whisk you away the very same day you all finish, taking you up to Stein with them for the summer once again. You celebrate your one-year anniversary with them. You have a party, once again with alcohol, but you refrain from consuming any once more. You all dance, laugh, play and talk, spending the whole day together. You’re kissed, hugged, held and embraced, loved and treasured by your soulmates. You end up stopping at one point, finding it baffling that it’s been a whole year since your life changed more than you ever could have expected.

But, in a way, it’s not surprising.

You’ve been so, so happy throughout the year even with all the things that have happened. Despite the hardships, you’ve enjoyed life so, so much more in this past year, and have been half focused on that, and then half focused on exams, so your time has been used to the maximum.

It’s no wonder it’s flashed by in the blink of an eye. Even around those two things, you had the wedding to deal with, Xander, Tobias and Lucian to adjust to, the threats from the nobility to fight, and your relationship to balance out amongst the chaos.

To be honest, you don’t quite know how you didn’t explode at some point and frazzle out from it all.

Naturally, as is every other student in the country on results day, you’re nervous. You’re stuck between excitement and dread as you enter the academy with the guys, Xander and Tobias for one of the last times. They know you’re internally freaking out, of course. They’ve been reassuring you all day, the boys having slept over again, kissing and hugging or cuddling you, telling you over and over again that you’ll be fine. You know they’re probably right, but you can’t shake off the what-ifs. The fear that you’ve done badly is still there.

It only worsens when you finally get through the queue of students and are handed the envelope, the one that contains some of the foundations of your future.

You move to the side with them all, in a quieter area of the atrium, escaping from the groups of students that have been trying to see what you’ve all gotten. Your stomach flutters again when you all get ready to open the results.

“Shall we?” Byron asks. There are nods all around, to which he smiles, counting down, “One, two, three, open.”

You tug the paper out, hiding behind it. Your eyes skim over the breakdown of grades before you.

Instantly, relief slams into you like a freight train. The grades are exactly what you wanted.

Tears spring to your eyes, but the blinding, beatific smile that beams away on your lips says it all. Your breath rushes out of you. You read the grades again and again, waves of joy crashing into you, elation sweeping through your mind repeatedly. Your eyes dart around the guys’ faces.

They all look happy, satisfied, content, or as elated as you look.

You all did okay.

“Are we happy?” You manage to gasp out, voice trembling with thick emotion. All the boys, and Xander and Tobias, nod or speak their agreements. You heave out a heavy sigh, laughing out breathily, “I’m so happy. We all did okay. We’re all happy. Thank God…”

Leo peers over now, reading your results. He’s already beaming, but upon seeing them, he grins beautifully, exclaiming, “That’s amazing, Princess! You got what you wanted!” He hands his results to Giles, chirping, “Come here, ___.”

With that, he lifts you up and into his arms, hugging you against him tightly and spinning you around. You laugh delightedly, gripping his neck and lifting your feet, letting him twirl you around in the air. The others are laughing or smiling at this, you see, and there are a considerable number of squeals, coos and screams when the other students notice him. You don’t fail to hear the many, “Aw” that they cry out, as well.

This only happens more, and increasingly loudly, as you’re swept up again by Sid once Leo lets you down, then Nico, Byron, even Albert, Robert, Giles, Louis and Alyn. More coos sound through the atrium, alongside several claps and hoots, when you’re crushed in a sandwich hug by your brothers.

And cue the cheers when the two lift you up, sitting you on their shoulders and dancing about while you duck your face in embarrassment.

You spend some time after this going to see your teachers, thanking them and giving them the gifts you bought for them. They congratulate you all on your results, wishing you well and reminding you about the graduation ceremony. You assure them that you’ll be there, as do the boys. The rest of the day blurs by, as the likes of some of the ICAC agents you know ring you to see how you did with your results, and you all work out what needs to be done while it’s results day.

You end up heading to the academy’s university site afterward, a little way away from the main grounds where the primary, high school and college are, with the others. Those who are planning to go to university, meaning Xander, Giles, Leo and Robert, go to submit their grades and secure their places, while you wait with those that don’t. You’re constantly hugged into Louis’ side, leaning into him where you stand against the railings outside the main building.

And then, when everyone’s sorted and done, there’s only one thing you can all do to celebrate; head home, bring out Just Dance, the pocky, and the alcohol.

The night does not disappoint, not in the slightest.

 **♡** **♔** **♡**

**1 st September 2017 | Freedom at last.**

The graduation and award ceremony is finally here.

This marks the point in all your lives where you become completely independent from the education, granted absolute freedom and control over your futures for the first time. Up until this point, education has been mandatory, something impossible to avoid and escape. As such, you wake up beaming, grinning away in your bed alone for once, when you’re coaxed from sleep by your Xander in the morning.

Your life is yours. Now, you don’t have to worry about other students hurting you, or planning against you, or the extreme clique culture of college. You’ll have to deal with similar things in whatever you do next, obviously, because that’s just life, but at least you have the decision now as to where you spend that time and deal with those people.

Still half asleep, you rise from your prone position sluggishly, groaning out, “Morning. What time is it?”

He chuckles, slipping his arms under your back and thighs, lifting you into his arms. You yawn, too groggy to protest, and let him carry you out of your room and downstairs. He answers on the way, dropping a kiss atop your head. “It’s just gone ten. You need time to get ready, so we decided to wake you up.” He shifts you up, hugging you tighter. “I can’t believe we’re all graduating. It’s nearly been a year since we came here. I feel like it’s only been a few months.”

Your head drifts up and down; you’re repeatedly, constantly struck with that thought nowadays. “Same here. I feel like the whole year just blurred by, and yet I remember all of it.”

He enters the kitchen now, where you can see your mum making your favourite breakfast, Lucian making drinks, and Tobias munching at some toast at the island counter. It’s a Saturday, a week and a day after results day, so as to give the students the best chance of being able to attend the ceremony, and so everyone’s home today. They all glance over when Xander enters, and he grins at their dubious looks. “She sat up at the speed of a sloth. She’s not awake yet.”

You grumble indignantly at that, reaching up to flick him on the forehead. Ignoring his wince as he takes you over to the island counter, you sigh softly, murmuring, “Good morning.”

“Morning!” Your mum chirps, laughing at your sleep-kissed state. “Breakfast’s almost done.”

“Thank you.” You give her a smile, letting Xander deposit you in the chair left of Tobias’, before then sitting on the one on your other side. “Is it too late to call the hair and makeup artist you hired and just do my own?”

“Yes.” Lucian snorts just a bit, wandering over with your favourite drink. You take it with a mumbled thank you, and he crosses his arms, gazing down at you. “Stop insisting on doing everything yourself. I swear, sometimes I think you’re just trying to take on the whole world yourself.”

You glare up at him mutely, sipping at your drink. Xander’s hand settles against the small of your back, rubbing soothingly. “Now, now. She’s just very modest and selfless, so it’s only natural that she instinctually declines thing like that. Would you rather her be like that, or be selfish and demanding, wanting only the best at all times regardless of the consequence?”

You hold your hand up for a high five, lowering your drink with a smirk. He gives you it as Lucian rolls his eyes, remaining silent.

Your mum runs through the agenda for the day while you eat. First, you’ll shower and make sure your outfit is ready for later. Then, when the artist arrives, you’ll let her get to work on you and doll you up as much as you want. When you’re sufficiently dolled up, you’ll wait for Xander and Tobias to finish getting ready as well. This will most likely take you all up until three in the afternoon, when you’ll need to go and get in the limo your mum has once again booked, claiming that it’s a rite of passage to do so when graduating.

You disagree entirely, but hey ho. If it makes her happy and she’s already booked it, you may as well just let it happen.

Once you’ve been given your to-do list and finish your breakfast, you get moving. You head upstairs and have a shower, washing your hair thoroughly and slowly, and then exfoliating your skin with care to make it look as nice as possible. When you get out, you wrap your hair up in a towel, retrieving your outfit and setting it up in your room. Your hands find your hips, and a satisfied smile tugs at your lips.

First off, you’re wearing a dress. In Wysteria, graduation dresses tend to be short, mostly due to the country’s long-winded history of women wearing to some degree oppressive, uncomfortable long dresses and the current generation wishing to separate themselves from that. Yours is following the same theme you used at New Year; it’s inherently white in its base fabric, with a sweetheart neckline and fitted corset middle. The corset is encrusted with jewels from all over the colour spectrum, delicate and sparkling like stars when the light reflects from them, their colouring causing them to refract the light and shine with little spectrums of their own.

The skirts are layers of chiffon over a white base skirt at the centre, each layer dyed a different, pale, washed-out hue, spanning the favourite colours of your boys. From the deepest layer is a soft brown, then deep, midnight blue, followed by indigo and baby blue. Then, there’s a gentle, mint green, ascending into a pleasant, calming yellow. This is layered over by a pale crimson, then a rose tone, followed finally by a majestic lilac shade.

Your shoes are white and have matching jewels on them, the heel your preferred style and height. Your jewellery consists simply of your two rings, one of your group’s insignia, and then the diamond-encrusted band they got you for Christmas, with the matching diamond pendant. You have a simply white shawl to wear over this, with buttons on the left side, over your shoulder.

It’s perfect. You’re delighted with it.

Grinning to yourself smugly, you make sure your white bag is with it, as well, with the standard things you might need through the night already in there. Satisfied, you hum and gather it all, then leave your room, padding downstairs again with your phone. You hang your dress up in the dining room and put the other items around it.

Finally done, you wait in the living room, curling up in one of the beanbags, while opening the group chat and peering at the current conversation between the boys.

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Good morning, everyone. Are we all ready for this undoubtedly loud, chaotic, at-first-elegant-but-soon-drunken award ceremony? Also, hi Alyn, love you little bro <3_

 **_The Scary Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _You really need to shut up._

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _*Gasp* Why? I’m only being polite! You wound me, Alyn, rejecting my love for you… I’m so sad now…_

 **_The Scary Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Good._

 **_Low-Key Informant to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Ruthless lmao_

 **_The Omniscient Sweet Tooth to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Agreed. Alyn, he didn’t quite say anything worthy of such a response._

 **_Too Cute for You to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Yeah, Alyn! How come you’re so mean to Leo? If I said that to Byron, he wouldn’t mind~ ^.^_

 **_Terminator to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Don’t make me laugh, brat. He’d scold you for saying something so petty and irrelevant._

 **_Too Cute for You to the Royal Squad:_ ** _You think so, Al? Okay!_

 **_Too Cute for You to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Byron~ I love you, big brother!_

 **_Terminator to the Royal Squad:_ ** _You are disgraceful. Byron’s not even in the chat. He’s currently having a shower._

 **_The CEO to the Royal Squad:_ ** _I’m here. I just finished._

 **_Terminator to the Royal Squad:_ ** _…_

 **_Low-Key Informant to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Pfft…_

 **_The CEO to the Royal Squad:_ ** _And, Nico?_

 **_Too Cute for You to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Yep~? (/ >w<\\)_

 **_The CEO to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Thank you. You already know what I would say if all of this wasn’t traceable._

 **_Too Cute for You to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Mm hm~! I know <3_

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _BAHAHAHAHA_

 **_The Omniscient Sweet Tooth to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Poor Albert. He seems to be a popular focus of teasing._

 **_Ice Sculpture to the Royal Squad:_ ** _He sort of walks into it, though…_

 **_The Scary Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _You got that right._

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _THAT SOUNDS SO WEIRD OH MY GOD I’M LAUGHING SO HARD_

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _I know. I can hear you because you’re deafening me all the way from your room. Shut the fuck up!_

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _I CAN’T_

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _IT MAKES IT SOUND LIKE NICO AND BYRON ARE TOGETHER_

There’s a brief pause in the conversation. You’ve been giggling away at all of this, clutching at your stomach, but now you break into hysterics at the thought.

 **_Low-Key Informant to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Incest always has to make its way into these conversations, somewhere. I hope no one ever reads these chats -.-_

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _I’M CHOKING ON MY OWN BREATH ALYN HELP ME_

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Fuck off._

 **_Picasso to the Royal Squad:_ ** _What on earth have I just walked in on…_

You’re still in stitches, howling with laughter, when your mum walks in with the same hair and makeup artist who did you and your mum up for her wedding, Ninette. You manage to give her a tiny wave through your hysterics, tears streaming down your face, to which she just blinks and looks to your mum. The latter shrugs.

“This happens from time to time. Don’t worry about it.” She dismisses it, hand rising in a dismissive gesture. You gasp for breath, choking out,

“Hi. Sorry. Thank you for coming again.” She hums, walking with your mum into the dining table when the latter motions for you both to come through. She sets up her things again, and you sit down, trying to compose yourself. “Right. So, that’s what I’m wearing,” You point to your dress and accessories, continuing, “But I don’t want tons of makeup or anything. I still want to keep things simple, but complement the outfit. Can you do that?”

She nods enthusiastically, studying the components of the outfit. “Of course! I already know what I’m going to do, with those requirements. I’m going to use the colours the maximum and bring out the dress and jewellery’s beauty through the makeup.”

You nod, beaming at her. “Thank you.”

She just rubs her hands together, narrowing her eyes and studying your face intently. Finally, she exhales. “Okay. We’ll do your hair afterward – keep it in the towel.”

You hum in understanding, and she starts to mill about, floating between you and her supplies. You continue to read the conversation, and start to join in, while she does things that don’t require you to close your eyes.

 **_The Omniscient Sweet Tooth to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Let’s just change the subject, please, before we end up debating the ethics of incest._

 **_The CEO to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Gladly. Princess, you’ve been reading these messages but haven’t been replying. Are you alright?_

 **_The Princess to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry – the makeup artist is here so I’ve been half paying attention to her, and I was too busy laughing at the messages before to be able to respond ^.^_

 **_The CEO to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Ah, I understand._

 **_Terminator to the Royal Squad:_ ** ____, are you on schedule so far?_

 **_The Princess to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Yep, we’re doing well over here. I’ll be ready, don’t worry!_

 **_Too Cute for You to the Royal Squad:_ ** _I can’t wait to see how you look! Gah, I wonder what you’re going to wear and have your makeup and hair like >w<_

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Me neither. You’ll look absolutely breath-taking, of course, because there’s never a moment when you don’t ;)_

You try to suppress your smile while Ninette does your foundation. It’s almost impossible.

 **_The Princess to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Thanks, you two. I’m excited to see what you guys are wearing, as well._

 **_Low-Key Informant to the Royal Squad:_ ** _I’m gonna be honest and just say it – we’re gonna to look damn hot. Like, seriously, we’re going to get swarmed when the party starts  
-w-_

The smile surfaces, despite your best efforts.

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Whoa, Sid! You just complimented all of us, meaning Louis as well! I should go see if there’s pigs in the sky…_

 **_Low-Key Informant to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Shut it. I take it back. I’m gonna be hot shit._

 **_The Sexy Crawford to the Royal Squad:_ ** _Too late now, buddy. Once it’s on here, it can never be truly forgotten –w–_

The conversation continues like this through the day, full of banter, planning and random chats, while you’re made up by Ninette. You almost feel sleepy, lulled by her gentle touch, by the time she finishes with both your hair and makeup.

At long last, you slip your dress over you, not forgetting to throw a pair of very short white shorts on underneath, just in case something happens and you fall or trip. You get your jewellery and shoes on, buzzing with excitement now that you’re dressed, since you haven’t seen what she’s done yet.

When you’re finally finished, you go to full-body mirror, stepping in front of it.

You genuinely can’t hold back a gasp of amazement.

The colours throughout the outfit do nothing but decorate your body beautifully, and make everything about you scream the boys, at least to those who know about them and you. Your hair is gorgeous, professional-looking and styled perfectly, then decorated with a collection of multi-coloured, jewelled hairclips that adorn the style, flowing with its shape and direction.

Your eyeshadow has been formed as a pastel rainbow, although only with red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple and pink, missing out Byron and Sid’s darker blues and Albert’s brown. Your lips are the perfect shade to complement your skin tone, and the latter has been covered in such a way that it’s not obvious that you’re wearing makeup, smooth and unmarked. Your natural features are emphasised and accentuated, but it’s not too heavy.

It’s balanced. It really is perfect.

“Oh my God,” You breathe out, gaze roaming over yourself, up and down, up and down, over and over and over again. You can’t believe it’s you. “This is amazing. You’re a god at this, Ninette.”

Said female claps joyously, bouncing where she stands. “I’m so glad you like it! You look absolutely stunning, ___. I can’t take my eyes off you!”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Ninette… it’s… just…” You trail off, unable to find the words. Someone else does it for you.

“Inhuman.” Xander’s voice suggests behind you. You whirl around.

He and Tobias are stood there in their outfits. Both are wearing military-style jackets, ones with high collars, buttons down the centre and belts at the waist. With these, they wear trousers and knee-high boots. Additionally, they wear jackets, long and flowing, in the style of trench coats, although both have them open. Their outfits are completely white, but the buttons, belts, and the tasselled epaulets on their shoulders are black. They look gorgeous.

“Oh my God, you two! You look amazing!” You cheer, clapping excitedly. Xander grins, bouncing over to you, while Tobias follows behind closely. They step up to you, and Xander’s expression softens even more, eyes adoring.

“Truly, ___, you’re not human. You’re breath-taking; God help the guys when they see you.” You can feel yourself blushing under your makeup at that, but you can’t stop your smile from widening further anyway. Tobias rubs your arm, smirking all the while, but you don’t fail to notice the tender look in his eyes.

“I agree. You look seriously beautiful.” Your heart swells at his words. You reach up, tugging them both in for a hug, an arm hooked around one neck each. They return the embrace, careful of your hair and makeup.

“Thank you. You too.” You give them a squeeze, drawing back. Your gaze shifts to your mum. “How long do we have until the limo arrives?”

She checks her watch, answering, “Ten minutes. Go and brush your teeth, and make sure you’ve got everything you need. Move it, Missus.”

You give her a lazy, playful salute. “Heard loud and clear, ma’am.”

She glares as you prance past her.

You feel like you own the world right now. You’re so, so, so happy, you almost can’t understand it.

You do as she says, and minutes later, you’re waiting at the door with your shawl on, bag draped over you and phone in your hand. Your mum hugs you fiercely, followed by Lucian, and then they do the same with Xander and Tobias. “Right,” Your mum breathes out, eyes flitting between the three of you. “It’s time. We’re so, so proud of you all, so please, enjoy today. It’s your day, to be proud of yourselves even more than we are of you. Be happy and cherish it, okay?”

You grin, laughing out, “We will, mum. Promise.”

There’s a beep from outside, signalling that it’s time to go. Lucian opens the door, giving you a smirk as you step past him. You roll your eyes, but you’re doing the same. Xander keeps hold of your arm while you step out of the house, then head down the path with him and Tobias, waving back at your parents. “See you later!”

Through the bushes, you see the limo easily, pure white and long, as well as quite wide. It looks luxurious, and a flutter of excitement bubbles inside you as you step up to it. The driver gets out, a woman dressed in a smart black suit, and nods to you all respectfully. She opens the door, and you thank you, getting in after Tobias. Inside, it’s similar to the one you went in for the wedding, but this is definitely bigger and has bursts of colour in its design, neon lights and decals adorning the interior. The seats are a light grey, as is the mini bar, while the rest of it is black.

“Wow.” Xander shakes his head, expression set in awe. “This is amazing. I feel like a celebrity.”

“Me too.” You agree, settling back into the seat, your brothers on either side of you. “She’s a nutter for hiring it, but it’s amazing.”

Tobias hooks an arm around your neck, tugging you into his side and kissing your temple. “The way I see it, she’s a nutter for sure, but I’m glad she is. You wouldn’t have turned out the way you did if she was sane, so I’m grateful for her craziness.”

You burst into laughter at that. Xander shuffles over to be closer to you, mimicking his twin’s movements and kissing your other temple. “So am I. If she wasn’t as mad as she is, we wouldn’t have you, so I’m glad she is who she is.”

Your laughter continues. You take their free hands, giving them a gentle squeeze and nudging your head against each of theirs. “Thank you. I’m grateful that Lucian’s the way he is, because it means I’ve got the two best big brothers in the world.”

More kisses on your hair. You giggle at their affectionate ways.

Soon, the limo comes to a gradual stop. The door opens, and a second later, your soulmates enter the limousine.

You’re sitting with Xander and Tobias at the top of the seats, facing the rear of it, and there are long seats along the left and right sides from where you’re sitting, the mini bar opposite you at the back. The boys file in, situating themselves in the seats, not actually looking at you with the intense concentration. On your left, closest to farthest, are Robert, Byron, Nico and Albert. On the right side are Giles, Leo, Alyn, Louis and Sid.

Your mouth pops open, mind blanking. Your cheeks warm, heart starting to pound away in your chest.

All the boys are in some of the most regal, beautiful outfits you’ve ever seen. They remind you of military uniforms; all of them are white, with hints and accents of their favourite colours in their features and designs.

Albert’s has a white jacket with brown trims, a brown sash and a brown flower pinned to his breast pocket, with gold decorations all over it, and then a white shirt under a brown vest and a gold tie. Alyn’s jacket has solid, gold epaulets and accents of red throughout, as well as gold decorations, and he wears a grey shirt under a crimson vest and gold clasp around his collar. Byron has a jacket with tassels descending from the epaulets, gold in colour, and a midnight blue sash across his chest, with a shirt and silk cravat of the same colour. His whole outfit is accented with gold, in bands clasped around him and a seal on his cravat, and he has a black shirt with a white-trimmed black vest.

Giles’ jacket is much simpler, trimmed with burgundy, silver cuffs on the sleeves, and sitting atop his burgundy vest, which then has a shirt and tie of the same hue underneath. A gold band holds his tie in place. Leo’s jacket has trims and accents of brown, with a gold chain on the right shoulder, and he also wears an unfastened white shirt under a brown vest. His red tie is, predictably, done loosely, but he’s kept his gold band-like necklaces on. Louis’ jacket has simple gold trims and chains fastening the centre together, a wine-red handkerchief in his breast pocket, and he wears a white shirt with a navy cravat and a gold seal. A blue-black vest sits over this.

Finally, the last three. Nico’s jacket is similar to Byron’s, in that it’s accented and trimmed with gold throughout, has the same gold tassels, and also has a sash, but his is rose and gold instead. A deep, dark pink vest is under this, with a cream-hued shirt and messier cravat finishing the outfit off. Robert’s jacket has gold trims and accents, with a rectangular gold pattern on each side, over a brown jacket and white shirt, fastened with a shamrock-hued tie, the latter clasped with a silver decoration that has an emerald in its centre. Sid’s jacket has lighter gold trims and a chain connecting the two upper lapels, and he then wears a grey vest accented with white over an indigo shirt. His white cravat is nudged to the side ever so slightly, fastened with a gold clasp which has a sapphire in the centre.

_They’re unnaturally beautiful. Sid wasn’t kidding._

They’re goddamn gorgeous.

As soon as they sit down, each of them still, eyes wide as they take in the sight of you with your brothers. Their gazes roam over your outfit, some lingering on your bare skin a little longer than others, but all of them make a good few laps before they even seem capable of forming and comprehending speech. You’re the same; your eyes just keep flitting over each of them, basking in their beauty, awed by the perfection before you.

_I’m so lucky. Oh my… I’m really, really lucky. To have people who love me is all I want, but to have that, as well as having them look so wonderful all the time… wow…_

“Geez. Close your mouths, guys. Stop ogling our sister right in front of us.” Tobias grumbles as the door is shut, rolling his eyes. He moves his arm to hold you against him by your waist, and Xander does the same with your shoulder. The less patient twin snaps his fingers on his free hand. “Oi. Earth to boyfriends. Blink, will ya?”

They snap out of it now, granted some slower than others. They appear to be struggling to make coherent words, and Albert, Louis, Nico, Leo and Sid are blushing just a bit. Naturally, you are as well, but hey – you’ve got nine people’s eyes raking over your body repeatedly. Finally, Byron manages to pull through for them all, breathing out, “___, you are absolutely, criminally, inhumanly beautiful. There aren’t enough words to describe it. You’re breath-taking.”

Your blush is getting more and more fierce by the second. You duck your head, flooded with embarrassment at the comment being said in front of your brothers, and while your boyfriends rather obviously appreciate your appearance. “Thank you. You all look so beautiful as well. You’re just… you’re all stunning. You’re more breath-taking.”

All of them shake their heads. Giles finally regains his own ability to speak. “I swear, Princess, somehow you just become more captivating every time I see you, especially dressed like this.”

You’re going to explode. You can’t take them being like this and complimenting you all at once, especially when they’re still staring at you. You shrink into Tobias’ chest, face a furious scarlet, head ducked in an attempt to hide it. Said brother sighs, rubbing your waist. “Nice going, guys. Now she’s going to turn up looking like she’s been sat in a sauna for an hour.”

You make a face. Sid’s voice sounds before you can give Tobias a sarcastic response. “But, I mean, she may as well be a sauna, she’s that hot.”

It’s going to be a long ride.

 **♡** **♔** **♡**

Thankfully, the rest of the ride to the location of the ceremony, a high-class hotel in the “Cloud” district, as named by those who don’t live there, is much less embarrassing. Seeing your persistent blush, the boys back off and tone it down on the compliments, giving you a chance to breathe and calm yourself.

By the time you all pull up outside the grand, towering building, countless other limousines and cars already present at the drop-off point, your skin has thankfully cooled under your makeup. You exhale when the limo comes to a stop, peering through the tinted windows outside. The students attending the ceremony are milling about, both inside and outside. Most of the girls are in dresses, a small amount long but many short, as is current fashion in Wysteria. The majority of the boys are in suits, and seeing people who you’ve only ever met in school uniforms now dressed so glamorously is a very odd sensation.

Several students hoot when your limousine stops, claps and cheers sounding, despite the fact that they don’t know it’s your group. You steel yourself, knowing you’re probably going to get stared at near-permanently for the rest of the night. “Right. Are we all ready for this? Prepare to be swarmed by our so-called fans.”

There are grim looks around the group. Louis drops his eyes to the floor, tension lining his delicate features. “I hope they don’t do anything to make us uncomfortable, or touch us again.”

Your heart aches just a bit; the thought is dreaded to you, too. “I’m sure they won’t. Come on, let’s get moving – other cars need to pull up.”

They do as you say and start to get up. The door is opened from the outside, and the guys begin filing out one-by one. As soon as Sid steps out, he being the first to leave, there’s a deafening, roaring cheer, hollers and whistles echoing through the already cluttered air from the thriving night-life of the city. You shake your head, sighing. Xander and Tobias step out, leaving you to get out last. You move to the door, and two hands extend toward yours, but they don’t belong to any of the boys; they belong to the hotel’s doormen, two tall males dressed in pristine uniforms, full with smart shirts, vests, high-end shoes and watches. They smile pleasantly, inclining their heads toward you. The one on the right speaks quietly, words almost lost amidst the madness.

“Welcome, Miss.”

You blink, surprised by the formality of it all. Nonetheless, you take their hands, letting them help you out of the limo and up to the entrance of the hotel, where the boys are waiting.

As soon as you’re out, the students start screaming. With joy, of course.

You’re waved at from all sides, pupils calling your name and staring after you in awe while you’re escorted to your group. It’s immensely pressuring, and sort of embarrassing again, somehow. You don’t like having the attention focused on you – just like it was in college, it all feels like you’re a celebrity, and that the world’s watching every step you take, waiting for you to make a mistake.

Thankfully, you’re back with your boys in seconds. Xander and Tobias take your arms swiftly, linking them through theirs, before the others move into position. They let you three move to the front, with then, from left to right, Robert, Giles and Louis behind you, Alyn, Sid and Leo behind them, with then finally Albert, Byron and Nico behind them.

“Let’s go,” Xander murmurs, seeming uncomfortable with the attention you’re all receiving. You couldn’t agree more. “Before we actually get jumped by them all.”

You nod, beginning to move. You head for the doors, watching as the students waiting there separate to allow you all to pass. They don’t stop in their reactions to you once, not even as you move past them and continue inside.

“Sid, I love you! Oh my God, he’s so hot. You look amazing, Sid!”

“___, you’re gorgeous! I love you so much!”

“Holy hell… they’re all fucking stunning. Geez…”

“Byron, can I get a picture with you, please? Or Nico? Or any of you? Oh my God! They’re all so damn hot!”

Tobias scowls. “This is horrifying.”

You try not to let your mortification show, stepping into the foyer when the doormen there open the glass doors. “I’m so sorry.”

Inside, the hotel is nothing short of astounding. Everything is modelled like a palace, with regal, intricate paintings, decorations, wall coverings, floorings and even ceilings as far as the eye can see. The foyer is massive, light and nearly full with students. The staff are standing about, watching on mutely, studying the pupils gazing around them in awe. It feels like you may as well be in Wysteria Palace right now.

The foyer is split up into three sections: the first, where people are being checked for their tickets for the ceremony, the second, where those who have cleared entrance checks are having their photos taken by a photographer, and the third, where those who’ve had their pictures taken are mingling and waiting for something.

You’re soon approached by a member of staff, who asks for your group’s tickets. You all bring them out and hand them over, waiting as the staff logs and stamps them before giving them back. They thank you, floating off to take care of the constant flow of new arrivals. You haven’t had a chance to say anything to the guys, and you still don’t now, as the photographer finishes with his current students and turns to your group. “Hey, that big group, there! Come on, let me take your pictures – you all look fabulous!”

You send the boys a wary look that they return. Even so, you shrug, making your way over.

The photographer is in a chair, with a white backdrop in front of him, and artificial lighting set up around to contain the brightness of the photos. There are several props here and there that you assume he’s been using, like very heavy-looking chairs which resemble thrones, crowns, sceptres, multi-coloured blocks big enough to sit on, and smaller items. He grins at you, blond hair tumbling down around his face like feathers. “Hey there. How many of you are there?”

“Twelve.” You answer, the number coming easily and automatically. He beams, looking excited.

“Fab. I’m loving this dynamic! It’s not often I see one girl with a load of guys. Usually, it’s the other way around!” He stands from his chair, bouncing over and clapping. “Right. What relationships have I got going on here? Who’s who to who?”

You blink, surprised by his approach to taking photos. Regardless, you get it together and respond. You gesture to yourself, Xander and Tobias. “We’re siblings, and these two are twins.” You turn, motioning now to Alyn and Leo. “They’re twin brothers as well,” The boys separate out now, standing more in a half-moon to make your job easier. You give them an appreciative smile, pointing to Albert, Byron and Nico. “Those three are brothers as well.” Gaze moving back to him, you sigh, finishing, “And we’re all friends.”

He nods vigorously. “That’s perfect, my dear. Alright. You three first! I’m going to have fun with all of you, while there’s a bit of a quiet time.” He gestures to your bag and shawl, then the boys’ jackets. “Give me those for the shoot, please! I want these photos to be awe-inspiring, and jackets and bags do not allow for that.”

Albeit reluctantly, you do as you’re told, and he sets them to the side before dragging three of the thrones. He sets them down so there’s one in the centre, and then the two at the side are angled slightly inward, so they touch the centre one on a single side.

“Okay! I’d like the twins in the outer chairs, and you in the centre one, Miss.” You’re confused but do as he says, very conscious of the eyes of other students on the three of you. Many giggle and laugh, but not maliciously or sarcastically – they look excited, like they’re enjoying observing you. As such, you make a point of remaining calm, sitting in the centremost chair. “Right! Now, each take one of her hands, and rest your others on the arms of the chairs. I want you to act natural, but nothing inappropriate. At first, no smiles, look straight at the camera. Ready?”

The two scramble to meet his instructions, taking your hands, your arms now resting on your own chair. You sit up straight, posture strong and composed, while Xander’s is slightly more relaxed and Tobias’ is to some degree cockier. You look at the camera, now raised before the photographer’s face. “Three, two, one!”

There’s a painful flash, and then several clicks, before he sighs happily and sings out, “Beautiful. Now, smile!”

_This is going to get annoying in no time._

You smile despite your thoughts, trying not to blink at the second flash. Before you can even recover, he’s babbling out instructions again, telling Xander and Tobias to lean forward and prop their chins up on their free knuckles, and then for you to cross your legs and tip your head back. All three of you accustomed to taking orders and following them because of the ICAC, you do it without question, and he snaps more pictures when he’s ready. There are squeals of delight from the students; apparently, they’re enjoying the sibling modelling session.

But they seem to love it a lot more when the photographer has you wear the crown, and the twins hold the sceptres. “Oh, my Lord,” He all but coos, in a voice that’s almost like one that would be heard from someone praying. You try not to frown at him. “I’m having so much fun. Your outfits are perfect for this.”

Cue him having you all stand together, posing in a variety of different ways. Then, he lets you three go, moving on to Alyn and Leo. There are screams when they both sit in the thrones, a sceptre in one of their hands, a single leg crossed, postures exuding power. He does this with the rest of the boys immediately afterward, then starts to play around with the groups, adding in and taking out members of the group as he goes. You’re certain he must have at least a hundred pictures of you all by the time he scrambles to set up the multi-coloured boxes, then sets the thrones up to be elevated, adding in two more before he’s satisfied.

When he’s done, he sits you in the centre throne, your brothers beside you, the crown atop your head and your hands in theirs. Byron and Robert are in the outer two thrones, now holding the sceptres. He has Albert lean against Byron’s chair and Nico sit at Byron’s feet, head draped back against his knee. Then, he has Giles do the same with Robert’s chair, putting Sid on the floor at his feet. Alyn and Leo are situated on the outer two boxes of the three he has out, positioned in front of your throne, Xander’s and Tobias’, with Louis in the centre. Alyn, after being told to do so, lifts one leg so he can drape his arm over his knee, while Leo leans back on his box, crossing one leg atop the other’s thigh. Finally, Louis leans forward, chin resting in his palm, legs crossed where his elbow rests on his thigh.

Cue the students taking out their phones and taking their own pictures, scrambling to look at the very professional photo shoot of their, for the most part, favourite students.

Thankfully, he releases you soon after, having created a queue of students who need to have photos taken. You all practically sprint away after he gives you the code to access the pictures later, moving to the side of the room to breathe and calm down. People are being let into the ballroom by now, where the ceremony will be, and you all start to make your way over when you’ve recovered. You can see that it’s just as big as the foyer if not bigger, and full of circular tables draped in white and gold, while there’s a stage and a screen at the back, easily nearly as big as a cinema one.

It’s only at this point that Miss Erickson, your form tutor, bounces over to you in heels and a dress, crying out, “No, no, no! Prefects don’t go in yet – Xander and Tobias, you can head in, but the boys and ___ need to stay here. Okay?”

You blink, frowning. “Why not?”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “Because you get a special entrance, silly!”

Your mind fills with dread.

_More attention? Really? After all that, we’re being put under the spotlight again?_

You could cry at the thought.

As such, you end up waiting in the foyer for another half an hour until all the students have gone inside. Xander and Tobias head in, they having decided to sit with all of you for the ceremony, so that they can find the table that’s been prepared for you all. Miss Erickson and several other teachers wander about while things are prepared in the ballroom and the last students arrive, until finally the doors to the ballroom are shut, leaving your group baffled. Upon noticing this, she laughs, explaining, “You get a grand entrance, since you’re all Prefects and have, to be blunt, been the best Prefects we’ve seen in our history. You’ll be going in soon, I promise.”

She’s not wrong. In the coming minutes, you’re all ushered to stand before the doors. Giles is on your left, Robert on your right, and Alyn and Leo are behind the three of you. Louis and Sid are behind them, with Albert, Nico and Byron at the back.

“I’m so confused.” You mutter, sending Miss Erickson a sideward glare. “We should have been given warning about this.”

“I concur.” Giles sighs out. Robert shakes his head.

The rumble and vibrations of loud speakers can be felt and heard even through the heavy doors. Soon, there’s a loud cheer, and then Miss Erickson claps, calling to you all from her position near the doors, “Okay, you lot! Get ready to go in. Your table’s at the front, near the stage. Just walk through and sit down.”

You’re nervous now. You don’t want to have to be showcased in front of the other students like you’re on a catwalk.

Pushing this back for the sake of not being awkward, you steel yourself. Giles smiles down at you, silently offering you his arm. Robert does the same on your other side, grinning away.

_They’re always supporting me. They know I’m nervous, and are trying to calm me by letting me keep them close._

You beam at them both, fingers drifting up to rest very gently and tenderly around their arms. You take in a deep breath, using it to settle yourself.

The doors are opened once more by doormen on the inside. There’s a round of applause, along with a collection of shouts, hoots, several screams and the occasional whistle. It’s almost deafening.

Even so, you stay strong, focusing on the feeling of Giles and Robert’s strong arms under your fingers. You start to walk forward with both of them, putting on a calm, controlled and yet relaxed smile while the two do the same. The students clap as you enter the brightly-lit room, full to the brim with tables except for a dance-floor at the front, and an aisle down the centre of the room to let people access the front portion of the room. You ignore the heavy weight of the students’ stares, pushing on and spying around for your table.

“Over there.” Giles utters, leaning down to your ear so you can hear him. You follow his gaze, eyes drifting to the left side of the stage. There’s a table there, empty except for two people; Xander and Tobias. You sigh with relief, making a beeline for it while not quite rushing. You can see your head-teacher, Mr. Anderson, stood on the stage, once again proudly bearing a microphone. He winks as you all walk past, cheering into it, “Let’s have a last round of applause for our wonderful Prefects!”

You cringe and wince inwardly at the rise in noise. When you reach the table, Xander stands, pulling out the chair to his right, and Tobias’ left, between them both. You squeeze Giles and Robert’s arms, then make your way over to Xander, sitting down on the seat. He pushes it in for you before sitting back down, and the boys sit down around the table. The cheers and applause don’t stop even now, and it’s this that makes the Mr. Anderson realise that he needs to order silence, not expect it. “Alright, everyone! Quiet, quiet! Settle down, please!”

The students eventually adhere to his words. Just as the noise drops, one student calls out, able to be heard by the entire ballroom, “I love you, ___! You’re the best!”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. The whole ballroom erupts with laughter, not excluding your boys. Even Mr. Anderson falls about in giggles, giving a thumbs-up in the vague direction of the shout.

“I commend your bravery and honesty!” More laughter. You shake your head, hiding your smile behind your hands. “Okay, everyone! Now that our Prefects have arrived, I’d just like to say a huge thank you to all of them! They’ve worked so, so hard in the positions they’ve had and have been wonderful in protecting, safeguarding, bettering and listening to all of you, as well as the other years’ students. You guys are great, and really are a shining example of what the academy wants to see in its students. Be proud, because you’ve all achieved so much and done so well, and all of us love you guys loads. Thank you, Prefects!”

The students clap again, Xander and Tobias joining in, although the latter’s rolling his eyes while he does. You exchange a smile with the boys, feeling immensely proud and glad to have used all the time and energy you have over the years to help out around the school.

Mr. Anderson carries on, explaining, “Right! Now, here’s how this is going to go. For the next hour, we’ll be handing out the single awards, meaning awards for people who have just earned one. Then, the next hour will be spent giving out double awards, which will take us up to six o’clock. That’s when we’ll be having dinner, formally for an hour, although you can keep eating even once we reach seven and start the multiple awards part, if you’re not finished.

“When this finishes, by eight o’clock, we’ll have crowned the Student of Excellence, given them their tribute video, and will then start the party. You’ll be able to dance, laugh, walk around, talk to each other – teachers included – or just sit and watch, whatever you wish. Does that sound good?”

Another series of hoots. He grins. “Good. Then, let’s get started, shall we?”

 **♡** **♔** **♡**

It’s twenty to eight. The number of awards that have been given out is unbelievable.

Nearly every student in the room has been given at least one award by this point, and the tables are full with certificates, if not food.

Well, that is, except for your table.

Xander and Tobias have gotten two each, but none of the Prefects have been given any. This doesn’t surprise you, if you’re honest; you’ve all done a lot over the years, so it makes sense that you’ve probably all earned three or more awards each.

You munch on one of the snacks you ordered earlier, studying Mr. Anderson return to the stage, his suit’s blazer long gone and shirt now opened at the top. He sighs heavily. “Wow. This year is just full of achievers, isn’t it? You guys are great – we’ve actually given out a record number of awards this year by over sixty.” The students cheer at that, sounding for the most part proud. You clap just a bit, head tilting curiously. The head-teacher’s eyes bounce over to your table, and he winks, singing out, “Ah, but one last table is appearing a tad empty of awards to me! Who do we think has been – deliberately – missed from the awards up until now?”

The answer is hollered in synchronisation. “The Prefects!”

A laugh follows this, one shared by your table and Mr. Anderson. “Correct. So, we’re going to give out the awards they’ve achieved now, across the various duties, positions and roles they’ve fulfilled over the years, as well as their awards for academic achievements, club achievements, and miscellaneous achievements. It’s nearly time for the party, people, I promise. Just bear with us.”

The teachers have new sets of certificates ready to hand out, ten of them stood at the back of the stage, waiting for their turn. The first steps forward while Mr. Anderson begins. “The first Prefect we have to announce has achieved excellence in several areas. First, this young man has managed to attain earned the Guardian of the Royal Wysterian Academy award, for repeatedly demonstrating the will and ability to protect his friends, fellow students, and his academy, from a range of threats and problems.”

All eyes snap to Alyn, who immediately starts to flush from the attention. You beam at him, heart soaring now that it’s your boys’ turn to receive the recognition they deserve.

“Secondly, he’s achieved greatly in P.E., and has earned the Excellence in the Mastery of Self-Defence award for his amazing achievements in the area of self-defence. Finally, he’s also earned the Excellence in the Mastery of the Equestrian Arts award, for his astounding achievement in horse riding, both in exams and in competitions, wherein he’s brought us pride again and again. Let’s welcome and congratulate Alyn Crawford, everyone!”

Everyone erupts into cheers and applause. You watch him intently as he stands, jacket now off like Nico, Sid and yourself with your shawl, and makes his way to the stairs at the front of the stage. He climbs up, shaking Mr. Anderson’s hand. He accepts the three certificates handed to him by the teacher, everyone clapping all the while, before he makes his way back down and returns to the table. He’s blushing profusely by this point, but he manages a soft smile when he sees your joy and pride, gently dropping his hand atop your head while he goes past your chair.

Cue the students losing it completely.

Mr. Anderson takes another few moments to calm them again, finally starting the second lot of awards. “Next, this student has also achieved the Guardian of the Royal Wysterian Academy award, for also taking steps to ensure the safety and security of the academy during his time here.” He pauses. “Actually, I’m going to save time here.  _Every single one_  of the Prefects have earned the Guardian of the Royal Wysterian Academy award, because they’ve all worked to protect the academy over the years. Let’s have a round of applause for them all achieving this!”

A longer, louder round of applause rises this time. He continues when it’s done. “Alongside this, he’s also achieved the Excellence in the Mastery of Fencing award for his undeniable skill and prowess in fencing, as well as the Excellence in Perception, Perseverance and Positivity award, for always doing his best to keep the academy and everyone in it smiling, no matter the hardships we’ve faced. Let’s hear it for Nico Meier!”

The bubbly rose-haired boy beams, bouncing up from his seat joyously. He all but skips up the stairs, accepting Mr. Anderson’s handshake and the certificates gratefully. He comes back, the whistles and cheers persisting again, and catches your hand on the way back, giving it a gentle squeeze. There’s a chorus of, “Aw” from the audience in response, which makes you laugh lightly.

“Next up! This student has showed nothing but determination, dedication and decisiveness during his time here, and alongside the Guardian of the Royal Wysterian Academy award, which I’ll abbreviate to G.R.W.A. from now on, has also attained the Excellence in the Mastery of Self-Defence award, for amazing achievements in the area of self-defence in P.E., as well as the Excellence in Achievement in Politics award, for his advanced progress, understanding and complete appreciation of the subject of Politics. Congratulate Albert Burckhardt, everyone!”

Albert stands at this, expression showing very subtle surprise. However, when he catches your eye and sees your beautiful smile, he manages to allow himself one, drawing screams from the students around you all. He heads up and accepts his award, shaking Mr. Anderson’s hand with a respectful inclination of his head, before then returning to the table.

“Now, this student in particular, along with the G.R.W.A., has earned the Excellence in the Mastery of Fluency in French award, for achieving astounding fluency in French, and also the Excellence in the Support of Peers award for his selfless, crucial role in assisting other pupils with their worries and struggles through their academic life here, and for supporting those in particular who have suffered. Lots of respect and congratulations to Louis Howard!”

Louis blushes faintly but stands, seeming to almost float to the stage, gliding with that grace he never seems to lose. He shakes Mr. Anderson’s hand and collects his certificates, hurrying back to the table. On his way, he changes things up, fingertips dancing very briefly over your cheekbone. There’s a rise in the giggles and screams from the students.

“Fab! Right, this student has also attained the G.R.W.A., of course, but has also achieved both the Excellence in the Mastery of Programming award, and the Excellence in the Mastery of Technology award, a double-whammy on those tech skills! He’s also earned the Excellence in the Mastery of the Musical Arts award for his natural talent and gifts in music! Can we please give it up for Sid Arnault?”

The applause just keeps getting louder, the students becoming more and more pumped with each of their idolised Prefects being awarded. You grin at Sid as he stands, and he smirks back widely, pride dancing in his eyes. His towering form looms over Mr. Anderson as he shakes his hand, then accepts the certificates and returns. He does the same as Nico and squeezes your hand on the way past, eliciting more coos from the pupils.

“Moving on! Ah, this student has demonstrated to us again and again his talents in many different areas, but also his specialisation in the different arts. With the G.R.W.A., he has also attained the Excellence in the Mastery of the Creative Arts award, for his continued achievement in Art and Design, as well as the other arts, and his successes when representing us in competitions in painting, drawing and other artistic skills.

“He’s earned the Excellence in the Support of Peers award for his continued efforts to help, guide and advise his peers, and to provide them with motivation when they need it most. Additionally, he has then attained the Excellence in Achievement in the Musical Arts award, for his somewhat unknown but passionate love for music. Yes, Robert, we’ve heard you playing the piano in your frees sometimes! Let’s have a round of applause for Robert Branche, please!”

The roars start up again, but there are a lot more whistles this time, as well as screams, predominantly female. Robert grins beatifically, standing and brushing his hair back from his face. There’s a painful collection of squeals and shouts at this, but he takes no notice, heading up to shake Mr. Anderson’s hand and accept his certificates. He follows the others’ lead on his way back, catching your hand and squeezing it tenderly. The cheers don’t stop at all, not for a good thirty seconds, and that’s with constant coaxing from Mr. Anderson.

“Geez, you lot. You’re going to end up causing them to shout the place down, Prefects! Stop being so loveable!”

Your table bursts into laughter at that, much to the delight of the students. He beams.

“Anyway, here we are. This student already has many achievements outside of education, but has shown extreme diligence, organisation and adaptiveness since coming to the academy. Along with the G.R.W.A., he’s earned the Excellence in the Embrace of Culture award for his absolute engagement with Wysterian culture, when combined with that of Stein, his home country, and narrowing gaps caused by the differences we have. Along with this, he’s then earned the Excellence in Achievement in Business, and Excellence in Achievement in Politics awards, for his strength and prowess in Business and Politics. You know who he is, everyone – Byron Wagner!”

The applause is more respectful this time, with less screaming and whistling. Byron rises calmly, going up to shake Mr. Anderson’s hand, then collect his certificates and return to the table. He very briefly touches your cheek on his way past, brushing his fingers over it with a feather-light touch and warming your skin pleasantly. There’s a giddy scream somewhere behind you.

“Three left, people! Now, we have a dearly beloved student, who has quite literally held the year together and ensured its stability for a long time now. With the G.R.W.A., he has attained the Excellence in the Mastery of Fluency in French award just like Louis, for reaching an amazing standard of fluency in the language and subject in general.

“Additionally, he has achieved the Excellence in the Stance as Student Council President award, for fulfilling the duties, roles and responsibilities of the difficult position consistently, with passion and determination, for years straight. Lastly, he’s also attained the Excellence in Achievement in Law award for his outstanding abilities in Law. Come on up, Giles Christophe! You know we all love you loads.”

Giles is grinning away, expression majestic and almost blissful, as he gets up and goes to the sage. He shakes Mr. Anderson’s hand and takes his certificates with a grateful nod, then returns, squeezing your hand on the way. One whole table screams in perfect synchronisation, seeing this.

“Second to last, here we have a student who really has outdone himself in so many ways at this academy. With the G.R.W.A., he’s earned the Excellence in the Mastery of Fluency in Modern Foreign Languages award- geez. That’s mouthful. Who named that?” That earns a rumble of laughter from the room.

“Anyway, that award is for reaching amazing fluency in Spanish, German and Romanian, which is outstanding. Then, he’s also achieved the Excellence in Academic Attainment award for stunning, major achievements in all his subjects, as well as the Excellence in Achievement in Politics award for shining even brighter in Politics. Finally, he’s lastly earned the Excellence in Stance as Student Council Vice President award, for committing to, honouring and taking on the role of Vice President with absolute dedication. Can we please give a huge round of applause for Leo Crawford, guys?”

The cheers this time are absolutely deafening, by far the loudest they’ve been all night. You grin anyway, wincing through it, and clap almost violently, watching Leo do the same, seeming to prance around the table and to the stage. He hops up, shaking Mr. Anderson’s hand gleefully, then accepting his certificates. He waves them in the air with a laugh, drawing hoots and whistles from the students. He mimics Louis and Robert, very lightly touching your cheek on the way past.

Oh, God. You hate being last.

“And, last but in no way least, we have our final Prefect. She, of course, has earned the G.R.W.A., so many times and for many different reasons. In addition, she, like Leo, has attained the Excellence in the Mastery of Fluency in Modern Foreign Languages award, for achieving fluency in Spanish, French and German, and confidence in Norwegian, Russian and Romanian. That’s a lot of words right there, folks, and a lot of time spent learning them!”

You’re blushing like mad already, but your heart is singing, soaring and aching at the same time, swelling with pride. The weight of everyone watching or peering at you is almost frightening.

“I’m not done, people. She’s earned, alongside these, the Excellence in the Mastery of Self-Defence award for her extremely impressive skills in protecting and defending herself and others, and has achieved the Excellence in the Display of Initiative award for repeatedly salvaging situations, offering aid in times of panic or crisis, and for providing support for both students and teachers in a wide variety of ways. Please, let’s all congratulate Dame ___ ____ for her outstanding achievements!”

If you thought Leo’s cheers were loud, you were mistaken.

You’re almost stunned by the intensity of the applause, and the support you’re given, by practically every student in the room. Pulse thundering, you stand up, praying that you won’t trip or fall on the way there. You walk up, hearing an increase in the whistles when your back is to the audience, further worsening your flush. You shake Mr. Anderson’s hand, and he winks, murmuring very quietly, “Congratulations, ___. Don’t get too comfy again, though.”

That makes you blink. However, you can’t ask him what he means, because you’re then given your certificates and have to move off the stage. Confused, you merely grin at the students, wiggling the certificates in the air with a laugh. They do the same, chuckling and giggling with you, until you’re finally sat down again.

“Now,” Mr. Anderson finally sighs out. “We have a single award left to give: The Student of Absolute Excellence award. As you all know, this award is given to a student who has consistently, significantly, genuinely made effort for the academy. This student will have positively impacted the lives of students and teachers alike, and will have done nothing but work toward bettering the life available in this academy. It’s a prestigious award, reserved for a student voted for by the students, and then approved by the teachers of the academy, and so reflects the student that the majority of students feel deserves it.”

You turn to the boys, grinning. “I bet you ten bells it’s Lyonette, Giles or Leo. Who’s in?”

Sid snorts quietly. “Me. I bet on you.”

You roll your eyes, dismissing the thought.

“This year, I think it’s quite obvious who’s been chosen. This person has gone above and beyond so many times, in so many different ways, that it’s impossible to ignore how much they’ve contributed to the academy. They’ve protected students from harm, be it physically, mentally or emotionally, and have worked alongside teachers to lessen the presence of bullying in not only their year, but others, as well. They’ve been selfless the entire way through, have stayed strong and shown nothing but perseverance, even when things have been hard and times have been dark.

“This student has experienced a lot in their life and is respected by those around them because they have true, genuine intentions and are willing to sacrifice a lot just for the chance to fix someone else’s problems, and it’s something treasured by those who know them.”

You press your lips together.

_Please be one of the boys. Please be one of the boys. Please be one of the boys._

“So, without further ado, please enjoy our tribute to our Student of Absolute Excellence.”

The lights turn off instantly, plunging the room into darkness, the curtains of the tall windows now closed. A video starts to play on the screen embedded into the wall above the stage, clear to be seen all around the room because of its size.

And immediately, your body freezes.

It’s a mashup of the song you talked to the boys about at New Year, when you spoke about cherishing the time you all have together. It’s “Immortal” by Marina and the Diamonds, but overlaid onto the music of one of your other favourite songs, “Papercut” by Zedd.

_You’re kidding me. You can’t be serious._

You can feel their eyes on you already.

The video finally shows an image. Your face appears, and you fail to stifle the scream of shock that bursts out of you.

The picture is one of the ones just taken earlier, by the photographer, of you on your own. You’re sat in one of the thrones on your own, head held high, a gorgeous smile on your face and eyes glittering like stars. The sceptre settled in your lap and on one of your palms, you look calm, composed and cool, collected in a way you’ve never even  _felt_  before.

_Oh my God. When he said, “Don’t get too comfy again.” he was talking about this._

Claps and hoots sound around the room, alongside cheers and calls of your name. The video shows the lyrics of the words, with smooth, professional transitions, over pictures of you over the years. The video Leo took at New Year with you, videobombed by the others, comes on, drawing laughs from the students. Other videos you’ve taken, mostly with the boys, here and there and everywhere, in your house and in town and in Stein, all play, the contrast of the dark lyrics but cheerful music and content creating an oddly satisfying clash.

You feel your throat swelling, thickening with emotion, as the song reaches the bridge, the part you talked to the boys about.

Because it’s now that pictures and videos of you and the ICAC agents, and your mum and biological dad, start to play.

You blink away tears, eyes fixed to the screen, focused entirely on a tribute to your life and past. Every picture, every video, brings forth a memory. It summons to you emotions you thought you’d forgotten or buried deep enough that you’d never find them, but now, they surface, cracking through your composure like knives.

The last picture you took with your dad, a selfie a week or so before his death, comes on. Your hand rises to your mouth, pain aching through your heart. Your lips tremble, voice shaking. You whisper the words to yourself, feeling each letter and syllable dig into your heart, deeper and deeper. “No, I don’t want to be afraid, afraid to die, die, die… I just want to be able to say that I have lived my life, life…”

A picture, just of him, smiling and laughing, eyes for once truly happy. You swallow hard. “Oh, all the things that humans do, to leave behind a little proof. But the only thing that doesn’t die is love, love, love, love, love…”

Suddenly, the music quietens, becoming a low murmur in the background. You frown just a bit, confused.

And then, through the quiet, your dad’s voice sounds.

“___, if you’re hearing this, I first of all want you to not hate whoever allowed it to be shown in public, like it is being.”

A soft, quiet keening sound escapes your throat. Your heart throbs with pain, old wounds ripped open, stitches torn apart and bleeding with long-forgotten grief. Xander and Tobias monitor this closely, hands settling on your shoulders and back, rubbing soothingly.

The words your dad is speaking fade in on the screen. Stars pulsate behind them, delicate and gentle and somehow important.

“This is a message I’m recording, today being the fourth of January 2014. I’m doing this, ___, in case my worst fears come true and I break my promise to you and your mother. My job with the ICAC has always been dangerous, and I’ve known from the start that it’s likely I’ll die because of it, but that’s something I’ve never had an issue with. However, I do have an issue with dying, instead because I don’t want to leave the world, knowing that you and your mother will be left behind to pick up the pieces and heal afterward on your own. I can’t bear the thought of it.”

You can barely hold back your tears. You gasp in breaths, holding on to everything he’s saying, engraving it in your mind.

“But, I can’t control that. I will spend however long I live with the ICAC, protecting the people around me. That’s what I want to do with my life. I don’t care about pride or honour or glory. I just want my daughter, my beautiful, wonderful, incredible daughter, to grow up safe, happy and loved in the place she was born. That’s my reason for fighting, for guarding Wysteria with my life.”

Another noise erupts from you. Xander moves closer, shuffling his chair over, to tug you against his chest and hug you while you watch the video.

“So, I decided to make this video, just in case. This is something I want to do so that, if I end up dying before I see you graduate, or reach 18, or 21, or get married or anything like that, I’ll still have the ability to be there for you. That’s the reason that, if you ever see this, it’ll be in a way that’s probably not the most private or low-key. Sorry about that, sweetheart.”

Louis hands Xander his handkerchief, and the latter takes it gratefully, giving it to you. You carefully dab at your eyes, avoiding touching makeup, to dry the few tears that are starting to spill over. Your eyes never leave the screen.

“For whatever reason it is that you’re watching this, for whatever it is that I’ve missed that I should have been there for, I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry that I’m dead, and I’m so sorry for all the pain I will have caused you. I never wanted to hurt you, ___.”

You’re getting close to losing it completely. Xander hushes you, stroking your hair gently.

“So, here goes. If it’s your birthday, happy birthday, and have an amazing day. If it’s your graduation or prom or whatever they call it, congratulations. If you’re getting married, I’m happy for you, and wish nothing but the best for you, for a long, happy life with the person you love. But I have something to say separate from this: I’m so, so, so proud of you, ___.

“You’re so selfless, even now, even when you’re only halfway through high school. You have such love in your heart and truly care about other people, to the point where you’re willing to suffer to see them happy. I want you to know that I’m so, so proud of who you are and how you live.

“You’ve saved people. You saved each and every one of the boys. Maybe you haven’t saved them all to the same extent, at least yet, but you will. I know you will. I know those boys will be beside you forever, and that you’re meant to be with them. Call it fate or destiny or design, some things are just meant to be, and I believe that your group is the essence of that.”

_He was right. He got it right, even all that time ago. Maybe he saw it in us before most of us even realised what was happening._

“Because of that, because of how beautiful your way of living and viewing the world is, I want you to live, ___. I want you to live on, to cherish your existence and the world you belong to, because it loves you and you love it just as much. You deserve happiness, truly, and I know you’ll get it because you’ll fight until the very end for it. You’re stubborn, just like me. Stubborn as a bull, you are, and hard-headed as well.”

You let out a breathless laugh around your gasps for oxygen. You hear the students doing the same, but you’re certain you catch the sound of someone else crying.

“I need to finish this before I start crying. God, it’s hard, making a video for your child, when you know they’ll only watch it once you’re dead.”

Someone’s definitely sobbing. Your own tears escape.

“___, I love you. I love you so, so, so much, darling. You’re my only daughter and the biggest miracle ever to happen to me. You mean the world to me, and I would give anything to not have to make this video. I’m sorry that I’m doing this to you. But just know, even when I‘m gone, I will never leave you. I’ll always watch over you, no matter when it is or where you are. You’ll never be alone, sweetheart. I love you more than I could ever tell you.”

The screen slowly fades from the black background, shifting, revealing something behind it.

Your dad, sat on the couch in your house, making this very video. His eyes are red, smile wistful but still strong. You stifle a howl of pain, heart aching even more.

“I love you. Thank you for being such a blessing to us. Protect your mum for me, protect your boys for me, and live your life with them all for me. Be happy with the family you have all around you, cherish them and keep them close. I don’t care if the boys aren’t related – they’re everything to you, and I know you’re everything to them. Never let go of that, ___. I don’t care what people say. You know who you are and that’s all that matters. Now, go on, get to scolding whoever it is that arranged for you to see this like I know you will.”

He does a little salute, the one thing he did every time he left the house to go to work.

“I love you, ___. Be happy. Goodbye.”

Your composure crumbles.

You burst into tears, unable to hold them back with the pain scorching your heart. You can clearly hear other people crying now as well, and somehow feel guilty, like it’s your fault that they’re upset. Xander rubs your back, helping you through the hurt, while you force yourself to get over the shock of seeing your dad again.

The tears eventually dry. When you feel like you’re all cried out, you dry your face with Louis’ handkerchief, quickly checking to see if your makeup’s smudged. You’re certain it will be, but are proven wrong when you glance down at your pocket mirror.

Your mum must have known this, or even planned this. She probably told Ninette to use water-prof mascara.

“Are you okay to come up and get this, ___?” Mr. Anderson asks after a few minutes, seeing you looking calmer and more controlled. You swallow hard, steeling yourself, before glancing at Tobias.

“Will you come up with me? Just in case I lose my balance, please?” He nods, smiling gently for once. He helps you up, starting to walk to the stage with you.

As soon as you’re in clear view of the students, they start to cheer and applaud again. This time, though, you can feel it; it’s different. It’s respect for who you are, a non-verbal show of their appreciation and their acceptance of you. They want you to know that they’re on your side.

Your lips split into a trembling smile.

Tobias hovers, a hand on your lower back, as you step onto the stage and shake Mr. Anderson’s hand one more time. He gives you a beaming smile. “Well done, ___. You deserve it so, so much. You really, really do. Congratulations.”

You manage a small nod, whispering, “Thank you.”

He lets go, turning to take a glass, trophy-style award from Miss Erickson. It’s in the shape of a decagon, with the same Wysterian seal as the one you got for your damehood smelted inside the glass, and then the academy’s logo underneath it, also melted inside. You read the words on it, frosted and engraved on its front.

_“Student of Excellence Award, gifted to Dame ___ ____ as recognition of her tireless, selfless, outstanding contributions to the Royal Wysterian Academy. She will forever be remembered by those in the academy as the purest soul of her year, and as a miracle to those who met her.”_

Another shaky laugh spills over your lips. You swallow hard, turning around and showing the students the award. Several of them stand, prompting the rest to do the same, while they clap and cheer for you. You hug it to your chest, breathless, hurting yet somehow healed, suffering but alleviated of your demons at long last.

“Thank you.” The words are inaudible, lost to the chaos around you. You couldn’t tell someone who they’re meant for, because they’re for so many people. There’s not one single person you owe more or less in your life. Without every single one of them, you wouldn’t be here today. So, you repeat the words to the world, closing your eyes for just a moment. “Thank you.”

_Thank you, everyone. Thank you for showing me what it means to be human._

**♡** **♔** **♡**

The pulse of music thrums through the ground, reverberating through you and rattling inside your chest. It echoes in your ears, enveloping your every sense. The air is humid, thick and heavy with the heat of easily two hundred bodies moving together, swaying, bouncing, twirling in synchronisation with the beat. Hands rise to the air, stretched out to the heavens with the ecstasy of such a sensation.

For most, it would already be intense. For you, it’s overwhelming. Not quite because the volume of the music is painful, or that the presence of so many people in one room is intimidating. Not quite.

No, it’s intense because of the three boys surrounding you. Three of your boyfriends, to be exact.

Sid, Leo and Nico dance around you, jumping with you to the music. They’re so close, all of their chests touching, obscuring you from sight almost entirely. Their expressions show the bliss of their minds letting go, getting lost in the pulsation of sound and movement around them. Yours is the same. It’s exhilarating, feeling their touch, having them in such proximity to you, and in such a personal, intimate way.

Alas, you are still human, and you can only take so much dizzying heat, intimacy and noise.

Your eyes drift to the side, jumps lessening gradually, mind searching for the quickest route out of the chaos. Leo’s hands settle on your waist, and you feel him stop jumping behind you, pressing himself up against your back as Sid and Nico stop dancing as well. He ducks his head down, straining to be heard over the noise when he shouts, “You okay? What’s up?”

You turn your head back to him, raising your voice and responding, “I’m okay! I just need to go outside for a minute! I’m really hot and it’s loud! You can stay, don’t worry!”

He shakes his head, smiling and calling back, “I’ll come with you! I’m hot as well!” He nods to the other two, explaining as loudly as possible, “We’re going outside for a minute! It’s loud and hot in here!”

They both nod in understanding. Sid takes your hand tightly, Leo now gripping your other, and Nico moves so he’s shielding your right side from the mass of bodies bouncing around. Sid makes his way through the throngs of students, ignoring the odd ones who reach out and touch him as he goes past, probably having managed to get alcohol from the bar if they’re old enough, or elsewhere if they’re not. He tugs you through, and eventually you all break through the fringes of the crowd, heading toward your table.

The others, meaning Albert, Alyn, Byron, Giles, Louis and Robert, watch on curiously, studying you all head over, your hands still in Sid and Leo’s. Xander and Tobias are still dancing, occupied with a group of students who are fawning over them. Giles smiles amusedly. “Enjoying yourselves?”

You nod, beaming at him. “Yep.” You let go of the two, retrieving your shawl from your chair after throwing your bag over you. “I’m just going outside for a minute – I’m seriously hot, and it’s ridiculously loud.”

Byron nods immediately, pushing to his feet. “I’ll join you. The volume is rather unpleasant.”

Before you know it, all of them are agreeing and getting up as well. You all get your things so they aren’t taken, then make your way through the ballroom and to the doors. You’re stopped by several students on the way, asking to take pictures with you, the boys, or both. You do as they ask, mainly because you’ll probably never see any of them again after this. The boys do the same, even the likes of Alyn and Albert loosening up enough to let the students get close with their phones.

Unfortunately, when this happens, it prompts the other students to click on and realise that they can do the same.

And so, cue you all spending fifteen minutes solid trying to reach the doors while the year takes pictures with you all.

Finally, you get there and practically run outside, to the front of the hotel where you were dropped off earlier. You release a heavy sigh of relief, basking gratefully in the clean, thinner air outside, not even noticing that it’s a bit nippy.

“That was ridiculous. So many pictures…” There are sounds of agreement from the boys. Your head tilts back, gaze seeking out the sky and arcing over the stars. “Well, this is certainly a night I’ll remember for the rest of my life. It’s been an emotional train wreck, at the very least.”

Sid snorts, sidling up next to you, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Yeah. But we did explain earlier why we couldn’t tell you – it’s a secret. The college told us to keep it to ourselves. We just helped with the tribute, and so did your mum, Lucian, Xander and Tobias.”

Leo hums, coming to stand on your other side. “I think it worked, though, with the video of your dad. Of all occasions to show you it, I think today was the right day.”

You can’t disagree with that. You make a soft sound in the back of your throat. “Yeah. I’m just happy I have another memory of him I can go back and watch again.” Shaking your head, you divert the subject, chirping, “But let’s forget about that.” You spin on your heels, eyes circling around your boyfriends, shining with happiness. “Have we enjoyed today?”

All of them nod, no hesitation in them at all. You grin, relieved. “Good.”

“Have you enjoyed it?” Robert asks, returning the grin. A gentle laugh bubbles out of you, arms crossing around your stomach.

“Yeah, I have. I’m glad this is how we’ve ended our time the academy together. I know Giles, Leo and Robert are all staying on at university, but I feel like this is right. For this to be our last time all together because of the academy… I’m glad this is how it’s ended.” Their expressions swiftly become dominated by adoration and tenderness, love swirling in their eyes. Byron smiles softly.

“But, even so, it is only the end of a chapter of our lives. We have a long, long time left to live and to experience the world, and we can do it together, even as we separate in the respect of our occupations. Just because we aren’t together every day doesn’t mean anything needs to change.” Your heart skips a little, swelling with joy. That’s what you want, and what you know they want as well. The smile widens. “So, to those who are going to university, when do you start?”

Giles smiles majestically, answering, “Monday, the eleventh of September. It’s another week and four days away.”

Byron seems satisfied with this, nodding firmly. “Good. In that case, shall we perhaps return to Stein for a few days? Those who need to return can whenever they wish, of course. Plus,” His gaze drifts to you, gentling instantly. “I had an idea earlier. You haven’t decided what you want to do yet, have you?”

You shake your head curiously. “No, I haven’t. Why?”

Nico bounces where he stands with excitement, and even Albert allows himself an amused smile. Byron chuckles quietly. “I’ve been planning to establish an official headquarters for the conglomerate in Wysteria. We have one in Stein, but it’s already sufficiently managed, and I want to expand out even further in the coming years.”

You blink, processing this. His smile shifts into a very slight smirk. “As such, I was wondering about it, and a thought struck me. I pondered whether you might be interested in working for me, as Albert and Nico will, in this new headquarters. You can take on whatever role you like. Considering your language skills, for example, you could be a translator for us, since we are now communicating with foreign countries, mainly in Europe as a starting point. Would you be interested?”

It sounds unreal. Being able to live in Wysteria, but have Byron, Nico and Albert remain here still, and then to work alongside them? To better your language skills and use them in practical situations to help them, and further the conglomerate?

How could you say no to that? It’s perfect.

“Would you really let me work for you?” You ask, amazed and honoured by the prospect. His head drifts up and down. “I’d want to be treated like anyone else, though. I mean, I don’t want to just be offered the job and given it without trying – that wouldn’t be fair.”

Albert rolls his eyes. “___, employers interview and test potential employees because they do not know the first thing about that person. Byron will not need to interview myself or Nico, nor yourself, because he already knows that we are capable and suitable to work under him. It’s not unfair at all, especially considering that there will be many, many more jobs created when the headquarters is established.”

You mull this over for a second, feeling increasingly tempted to accept. He has a point – Byron has already had more than enough exposure to you and is aware of your skills and abilities. There’s no point in him interviewing you or testing you further.

Your lips are swiftly graced by a beatific smile. “Okay. I accept, then. I’ll work for you. Thank you so much, Byron.”

He raises a hand, offering it to you, palm facing upward. “You’re very welcome. In return, you need only give me one thing.”

Your pulse jumps with excitement. Your hand settles atop his, and his fingers curl around yours smoothly. “And what would that be?”

He allows himself a rare, breath-taking grin, coaxing you against his chest and into a tender, loving embrace. He cradles you there, fingers smoothing over your hair soothingly. “A hug.”

You end up giggling into his chest at that, finding the simple statement to seem oddly childish coming from him. Hands settled against his stomach, you relax, humming out, “You know I’ll never say no to a hug.”

His lips brush over your forehead. “Indeed.”

After this, when you’ve all cooled off and had some quiet time, you head back inside and spend another hour and a half dancing, talking, nibbling on the different foods available, and letting the other students take pictures with you. You also make the effort to say goodbye to and thank all of your teachers, receiving congratulations and hugs in return. You’re given a pen drive with the tribute made for you by Mr. Anderson, which you accept appreciatively, cradling the memory of your dad close to you.

But it soon nears midnight, and you all decide to get going, since everyone is happy to drive back to Stein and stay there for at least a week, with Giles, Leo and Robert deciding to come back on the eight day to get ready for university. Three are simply deciding to live on campus, since they don’t have homes of their own, but all plan to get part-time jobs during their courses so they’ll eventually be able to get either their own places to live, or a combined one between the three of them.

So, you all head to each of your houses in the limousine after calling it back. It drives to the dorms, then Sid’s house, then Louis’, and finally yours, dropping off the appropriate people so you can all get some clothes and supplies you’ll need for your stay in Stein. Your mum and Lucian greet you, Xander and Tobias when you arrive home, and the former practically interrogates you all, with the barrage questions she fires out about the ceremony.

You respond with subtle scorn, scolding her just a bit for giving the college the video of your dad simply because it made you cry. She just bursts out laughing, not remorseful or regretful in the slightest.

In no time, you’re packed and ready to go, giving your family hugs and kisses once more. Sid and Byron drive to your house, whisking you away in the direction of Stein.

Of course, it’s late, and the drive is two hours long. You fall asleep in Robert and Nico’s arms in minutes, and they soon follow. It’s two in the morning when you pull into the mansion that you consider to be your second home, but you come around quickly when the boys wake you up. You near enough sprint inside with your suitcase, ecstatic to not have to be constantly worrying about someone outside the group seeing you close to them anymore.

Unfortunately, you can’t do much with them tonight, it being so late.

But that’s okay, because you’ve got a whole week to spend with all of them. You’re in no rush.

Teeth brushed and face de-caked of makeup, you flop back onto the bed in the big room, where you and all the boys sleep when you stay here. You’re feeling the pain of dancing for so long now, muscles aching and straining, tense and uncomfortable. Still, you soon start to relax and calm down, laying in the centre of the bed with your hair ridded of its decorations, and a long-sleeved top and leggings on. You close your eyes, basking in the silence of the room aside from the ringing in your ears.

_I’m home. I’m with my boys. The next chapter of our lives starts now, and we’re all moving forward, into it, together. Byron, Albert, Nico and I will work on the Wagner conglomerate together, back in Wysteria. Giles, Leo and Robert will be studying at university for at least the next four years. Louis will be doing volunteering work at orphanages while he prepares to take over his father’s duchy, when the time is right. Alyn will start his training to become a knight in a few weeks, and will work toward becoming one in the next few years. Sid will be going into the intelligence industry and will most likely look to join one of Wysteria’s intelligence organisations._

A smile tugs at your lips.

_But we’ll always be together, even when we’re physically far apart. We’ll support each other the whole way._

The bed dips on your left, then below you, before it shifts all around you. Your hand, draped over your eyes, is taken by warm fingers, held tightly above your head. The familiar sensation of more heads settling atop your body breaks you from your thoughts, and you open your eyes, glancing around you curiously.

The boys are lying around you, heads closest to you, feet pointing away from you. Byron is above you, the crown of his head touching yours. Albert’s head is on the other side of yours, he lying next to Byron. Alyn is on the opposite side of Albert, and Leo is next to him, the latter’s head settled atop the left side of your stomach. Louis’ head is on the right side, he lying opposite Leo, while Robert and Giles are lying with their heads near your hips. Finally, Nico and Sid are lying next to your legs, each hugging one tightly.

They’re positioned in the exact same way they did on the 5th of July last year, just after midnight, when they slept around you as your boyfriends for the first time.

You giggle at the thought, hands drifting down to settle in Leo and Louis’ hair. Your fingers sift through the strands delicately, and you close your eyes as the lights go off, feeling the boys fixing blankets over themselves and one over your torso and thighs. “Are we having a throwback moment?”

“Yep.” Leo purrs out, leaning into your touch like a cat.

Sid snickers, fingers trailing up and down over the back of your calf, sending shivers running through you. “Problem?”

You nudge him with your knee, smirking. “Not in the slightest.” You snuggle down, getting comfy, and feel the boys doing the same. “We’ve changed a lot since then, in a good way. We’ll say goodnight differently, this time.”

You tilt your head up, stretching it to kiss Byron’s head, then Alyn’s, then Albert’s. You briefly sit up, dropping kisses on Leo and Louis’ foreheads, Robert and Giles’ cheeks, and finally Nico’s forehead and Sid’s cheek. You drape back once more, breathing out, tone ardent and sincere, “I love you. All of you.”

Nine kisses dust your body, on your head, your cheeks, your hands, your hips and your thighs. They share a momentary glance, then smile together, speaking in synchronisation in a rare show of absolute cooperation and agreement. “We love you. All of us.”

You know they do, of course.

Loved, safe, secure, and stronger than ever before, you descend into blissful sleep with your soulmates. They fall with you, succumbing to the dark. Your last thoughts are ones of absolute certainty.

The world has a strange way of working. It’s inconsistent, unpredictable. It follows no rhythm or pattern, adheres to no rule. It bows to no pressure and crumbles under even the heaviest of prayers.

And, yet, despite all this, it can love, and it can give love like nothing else in the universe.

Your heart has always been made of titanium. You’ve been strong and stable, but flexible and understanding. Your mind is like no other, so complex and intricate, but to some, to your soulmates, comprehensible. You’ve been irresistible from the start, and they had no chance of silencing their hearts once they realised it.

You’ve been the same. To the rest of the world, these boys are odd, or damaged, or broken, or dangerous. To you, they’re beautiful and heavenly and something only miracles can create.

It’s this harmony, this mutual, deep, absolute love, that now binds you all together. It’s been threading crimson ribbons between you all, lacing your lives together to form the purest, truest collective to ever grace the earth. Five components, five supposedly simple natures of humanity, have sealed your fates together and promised all nine of you your forever.

Communication. Compromise. Faith. Honesty. Loyalty.

Finally, you’ve formed this new, strange relationship, this beautiful joining of souls into a single hive mind, revolving around the queen at its centre. The ribbons have tightened. Their creation is complete. At long last, they’ve established this impossible structure. A network, an intricate, impossible connection of ten lives within one group, one group with one purpose.

You had your start, suffered together to establish the foundations of your futures.

You learned the meaning of Intrahuman.

You came to understand the inner workings of your heart, and theirs.

You opened your eyes to the world of Intra-Hearts.

You finally found your forever.

You finally have your Intraunion.

 **♡** **♔** **♡**

 **And so they all lived, happily** **, blissfully, peacefully, perfectly** **…**

**Ever After.**


End file.
